RWBY Short Stories and One-shots
by shandromand
Summary: These are entries for Writing Prompt Wednesday, Cunning Challenge, and the odd Whose Line Is It Sunday threads. Each week for WPW, a prompt is provided (by majority vote the week previous) and a short piece is written for that topic. CC is a relatively new, semi-weekly thread in the RWBYPrompts subreddit, and WLII is an open-ended version of WPW in /r/RWBY.
1. Chapter 1

**Introduction:** I'll keep this brief. This is the first of what I hope to be many entries for the RWBY community's Writing Prompt Wednesday.  
This week's prompt: _Ozpin and Salem were on a team, once upon a time. At the end of Volume 2, they reminisce about how different things are compared to back then._

The mesa was quiet when Ozpin arrived. A bullhead had dropped him off hours ago. The tree stumps still sat where they had placed them all those years ago. He had laid a pillow down on two of the seats. To be sure, the added comfort wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

He busied himself by setting up a small campfire, then setting water to boil. The makeshift table held a teapot, two matching cups, and a small box. Upon its rough face was carved a chessboard. Once he was satisfied that all was ready, he sat and waited patiently.

The sun had set, the last rays of gold leaving dappled streaks on the scattered clouds. The moon would rise soon, the face full as though nothing were wrong. Perhaps she would come this time. She seldom appeared of late, but Ozpin felt that he owed it to her to at least be there.

The flat expanse was broken only by the occasional tree, and wind whispered through the branches and grasses. There were no other sounds aside from the merry crackle of the flames. To keep his thoughts from turning maudlin, he gently opened the box. The cherry wood was still vibrant, even after decades - or was it centuries, now? The interior held a red velvet cushion, which in turn held hand carved chess pieces. The onyx and white marble shone from years of handling and polish. But the wood-burnt inscription held his eye for a time. He sighed as he brushed fingers over the pieces. The moon had risen.

One moment the seat across from him was empty, and then it was not. She arrived on the whispering wind, seemingly unperturbed, as if she hadn't just rushed in. She did, however, take a moment to settle her dress about her legs and smooth its folds. When she was satisfied that all was in order, she folded her hands on the table and stared with glowing red eyes.

"I was afraid you wouldn't come, again, Salem. Tea?" She bowed her head briefly, crystals swaying and tinkling as they hung from her head spurs.

"Yes, please. I am sorry about the last time. There were... distractions." He rose and retrieved the water kettle from the fire. She removed the lid of the teapot while he filled it, replacing it carefully when he finished pouring. Her gaze had settled on the box while they waited. A ghost of a smile brushed her lips as she traced a finger over the white king. "I'm always surprised to find that you've kept this, even after everything," she trailed off. "Simpler times and nostalgia?" Ozpin smiled at her sadly. It seemed that the infestation had completely overtaken her.

"I pine for the days when all we had to worry about were grades and tests. You with your love of the game-" he started.

"And you with your books." Her face lost its expression, head tilting to one side. "Sometimes I wish that we had never found those awful things." She scowled and stood, facing away from the flames and pacing a few steps. Much as her humanity had ceased to be, Ozpin could not help but still find her beautiful, even if in a mildly horrifying way. He joined her, daring to lay a soft hand on her shoulder. She was so very cold, a fact that was made more evident when she placed a clawed hand upon his.

"We chose these paths, Salem. I wish we had not, but we must see this through, you and I. The alternative is..." He couldn't bring himself to say it. Not to her. It wasn't fair, and they both knew it. "Come, let us have a game, and talk of better days."

She turned to him, pulling his hand down but still clasping it between them. She smiled, a single tear sliding down her cheek. "You know this will be the last time, before..." He dipped his head down, equal parts grief and shame. So terribly unfair. One night every decade was never enough. He pulled her into an embrace, which she returned reluctantly.

"I know. I'm sorry, Dear Salem. I'm so very, very sorry."

 **A/N - I had intended for there to be more dialogue, but it seemed better to stop there. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

_This week's prompt: The roles are reversed, Blake is the leader of the White Fang, and Adam was the one who left._

Adam hadn't ever needed much. Life had taught him the hard way, repeatedly – and often brutally – that anything not required for immediate survival was merely something that he had to lose. It hadn't been until he met her, Blake Belladonna, that he had ever wanted something more than the next meal, the next safe place to sleep, the next objective. Blake had changed all that.

The young woman - still, older than him - had caught him picking her pocket, or rather, had tracked him down after the fact. She had cornered him in a dark alleyway. When she confronted him, she saw his horns and had torn off the bow hiding her ears. Adam had never made a habit of being selective about his victims beyond the weight of their wallet. Human, faunus, they were all the same to him. He had never been overly fond of his heritage. It was impossible to hide, and gave him just as much trouble as his daily survival had. Her anger had been palpable, and yet something tempered her mood, stayed her blade.

Blake had convinced him to return to the camp with her. He had reservations, but she offered him a night's food and shelter. All she had asked for in return was a willing ear. He wasn't really sure he had a choice, but she had made it seem that way. She hadn't demanded the return of her wallet, or beat him up and taken it back. Adam went with her, curiosity getting the better of him.

The camp held several dozen tents, which were scattered around campfires. Her own tent was more of a pavilion, but it was furnished simply. She prepared a meal for him with her own hands and sat with him while they ate. He expected a scolding about stealing from his own people - how was he to know when she hid it? Instead she told him a story about a little girl who struggled much as he had. He hadn't listened at first, but the more she spoke of the torments and suffering she'd endured for most of her own life, the less interested he became in his meal. It tasted like ashes. Bitterness crept into his palate as all-too familiar memories of his own came to mind.

Blake sat in silence for a time, as if measuring his reaction. It was not awkward as silence often could be for him. After a while, she spoke of her own plans. The leadership of the White Fang was being passed down to her. New ideas were desperately needed; Faunus were simply not being treated as equals. The old way of doing things just was not getting results. She spoke with a fire that stirred something in him.

The Faunus would wait until stars burned out before the humans would give them the same rights they held so dear. Asking politely had gotten them precious little. It was time to send a stronger message. By the time she had finished speaking, the hour was late. The unfinished meal lay forgotten, and she offered Adam a choice. He could go, unchallenged – and even keep the money he had stolen from her – or he could stay and fight for a better future.

Adam Taurus felt different after that night. He couldn't make sense of it, but it was more than mere survival. Blake offered to show him the way. He was never a fighter. Even when cornered he was simply too weak to take on the often larger and stronger victims who had caught up with him. Blake had promised to make him strong. If he chose to stay, she would do it that very night. He chose. She kept her word.

The night brought the best sleep he'd had since running from the orphanage all those years ago.

Years followed, and they were filled with many challenges. Training his newfound Aura skills and executing, then later coordinating raids were the hardest things he'd done in his life. But he believed because *Blake* believed. He'd never had a friend before, and had never bothered imagining what it might be like. She changed that for him; she took charge of his training, made time to teach him new skills. She had shown him the value of ideals, and fighting for them. She would listen to his ideas: Sometimes she would even make his better ones happen.

Adam was near his coming of age when he started to notice a subtle change come over Blake. She was becoming more agitated, quicker to anger – never with him. Her patience seemed infinite when it came to Adam. He worried, but continued to trust her. She had given him so much, and her temper seemed harmless enough. The work they were doing was important; sometimes sacrifices had to be made.

It wasn't until she had killed a Huntsman that he'd grown concerned enough to speak up. In all their time together, no lives had ever been taken. It had been the heat of battle, and the Huntsman had not been holding back. She had glared at him momentarily, but regained her composure in an instant. She reassured him with a gentle touch and quiet words, promising to be more careful in the future. There were more incidents, and their talks became disagreements. Arguments followed, becoming increasingly heated. Their final bout had ended in a shouting match. He loved her, but she was starting to frighten him, such was her rage. The words rang in the empty woods away from camp, and Blake had looked at him as though she had been slapped. They didn't speak for days.

Had it all been a mistake? He would angrily shake his head each time he wondered if he had been wrong. Blake was a good person, deep down. It showed in the thoughtful actions she took. Making certain that the children of the camp were first to eat, seeing to the needs of any injured or sick – often personally. Time and again she put the needs of her – *their* people before herself. Her gift to him, Wilt and Blush had been forged at great personal sacrifice (though she thought he wasn't aware). It was his most treasured possession.

When Blake had finally relented, she found him sitting in a tree in the Forever Fall forest. He was leaned against the smooth bark and staring up through a part in the canopy. The shattered moon had begun to rise when he heard her footsteps. She had learned that, as much as he trusted her, it was unwise to sneak up on Adam when he was brooding.

He slipped the mask down to cover his eyes before she could see the raw flesh around his eyes. He had never liked the damned thing, but he had worn it for missions – it was important to Blake, so he wore it for her sake. He never bothered with them around camp as so many of his brothers and sisters chose to do. The last few days he had made an exception: He didn't want to appear weak, not even - no, *especially* not in front of Blake.

Adam heard her semblance flash as she leaped to join him on the branch. She stood for a moment, staring at nothing. When Blake turned to face him, her expression was unreadable, but she moved to sit next to him. There wasn't much room for her, and they ended up rubbing shoulders as he scooted over as much as he could. Several minutes passed in awkward silence before she spoke.

"I hate it when we fight, Adam." Her regret sounded genuine, tinged with something… other.

"Yeah, so do I." He didn't know what else to say to her. It seemed like he had already said plenty – too much, maybe.

"Did you mean it?" she asked. His breath froze in his throat. Her voice was expressionless, a warning sign he'd learned to spot. She sat patiently while he tried to find the words.

"Which part? The fact that your anger scares me, or the fact that-"

"Do you really love me, Adam?" He bowed his head and nodded slightly. He waited for her to rebuff him. She was his mentor, and his friend, but she was also his leader. She didn't have time for romance – not that he had any idea how to go about it, even if she had. The words never came. Minutes passed in agonizing slowness. It was a worse torment than the rejection he knew was coming.

Instead of leaving, or pushing him away, Blake laced her fingers between his. She continued to say nothing; instead she lifted his arm around her shoulders and laid her head on his. Her ear whiskers brushed his neck. He went still as stone and cursed his racing heart in silent frustration. He was certain that she could hear it banging like a drum. She tried to speak a few times, but had trouble finding her own words. He didn't know what to say either, but dared to rest his cheek against the top of her head.

The moon had risen out of sight, obscured by the leaves and branches. When Blake finally spoke, it had been at least an hour.

"It's been so long since I wanted anything for myself, Adam. I want to talk about this. We _will_ talk about this; but right now we need to focus on the train mission tomorrow. We also need our rest." It was better than he'd hoped for. "Come on, let's head back to camp." She sat up and brushed her lips across his cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that seemed to spread down his neck. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Love was about accepting someone, flaws and all, wasn't it? They disentangled and jumped down to the ground below.

 **A/N** \- **Alright, so I couldn't think of anything good for the last prompt. *This* one, however... It's not the sort of thing I usually write, but... Well, I actually invested some of myself into this piece. I hope you guys like it.** **I'm actually really feeling this one. If people want more, I'll try to continue it. It will not be part of the Dust and Motes continuity.**

Update: Made some changes for better flow.


	3. Chapter 3

_This week's prompt: Grimm Pyrrha fights JNR  
_ _I feel that it's necessary to point out that if you are a fan of Pyrrha, Arkos, or JNPR, you might want to prepare yourself. I had to stop writing this several times before I finally finished it. You want on the feels train? Don't say I didn't try to tell you so..._

Jaune swung his sword at the Beowulf as it rushed him – just like he'd practiced a thousand times every night during his watch. This was the fifth village they'd come across that had been destroyed. He had started to lose hope that the madness would end. His stroke severed the creature's limb at the elbow. The beast howled in fury and struck at him with it's remaining claw, which he blocked with his shield. The impact sent a furious shock all the way up to his shoulder.

He grunted and pivoted, swinging his sword up as he ducked past the Grimm's jaws, blocking an attempt to bite his head off. Completing the turn, he reared his sword arm across his body and pushed aura into the blade, then swung the edge across it's torso. The cut was deep, but not enough to finish it. He pushed his aura out behind as hard as he could while bracing his shield tight against his shoulder. He slid across the ground so fast that he nearly lost his balance, but managed to slam into the Beowulf. It fell to the ground and he abandoned all defense, leveling a flurry of blows at it's head while screaming incoherently.

He poured all of his anger and sadness and guilt into the swings. He hadn't even realized that it was dead until his sword began passing through it's smoky form. Dimly, he heard someone calling his name. He stopped attacking and stood, panting and shaking.

"Jaune?" Nora asked, her voice touched with uncharacteristic concern. When he didn't respond, she said his name again. "Jaune, we're worried about you."

"I'm fine, Nora," he lied. He was not fine, and he knew it. Seeing so many villages torn apart, corpses strewn about in some, and nothing but rubble and fire in others, it had taken a toll on him. He collapsed his shield and tried to sheath his sword several times before letting his arms drop. He turned to look at Nora and a speechless Ren with a wan smile. "Really, guys, I'm fine." Ren gave him a look of disapproval.

"Jaune, I know that adrenaline can take over during a fight, but this is different." Jaune hung his head for a moment. "Nora's right, you aren't fine." Jaune looked back up, tears welling in his eyes. Ruby had tried to talk to him about this a few times now. At first he hadn't wanted to, but she was persistent, though gentle. He had finally opened up to her about everything. Ozpin and the secret vault, failing to stop Cinder – the one thing Professor Ozpin had asked him to do and he had failed. And he had done it again later that night. It was his fault Pyrrha was dead. Ruby, of course, had objected strenuously.

"We don't have time for this. We need to look for survivors." As he spoke, Ren's eyes widened, and Nora's face paled; both gripped their weapons tighter as their gaze tracked to something behind Jaune and to his left. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Crocea Mors. He started to take a deep breath, but it froze at the sound of a voice.

"Hello again." It was husky and ethereal, almost as if echoing back from a canyon. He turned slowly, without looking. Nora whimpered behind him, repeating the word no quietly over and over. He didn't want to look, couldn't, _mustn't_ look. He knew that voice, even distorted as it was.

"Jaune," it said, "look at me." He could not ignore the command, and opened his eyes. He regretted in instantly, his mind screaming Nora's mantra – had he breath, it would be ripping through his vocal cords instead. A woman stood before him, but she was _wrong._

She stood tall, skin pale as moonlight on a shoreline, tendrils of crimson threading across bare parts of arms, legs and face. Her face was Pyrrha's face – there was no denying that, but there the similarity ended. Her eyes were jet black, with smoldering red irises. Her hair was not the lustrous red that he remembered, but an inky black so dark that it seemed to absorb light. It was unbound, and did not flow in the breeze. She wore the familiar armor, but rather than her customary bronze, the metal was blood red. She didn't appear to be armed, but there were wicked claws where her hands should have been.

"Jaune," Ren said with wariness, "it isn't her." Jaune's rational thought refused to function. He took a step toward her.

"Jaune! NO!" Nora shouted. He took another step. Pyrrha remained still, devoid of expression. The voices of his friends were a distant whispering. All that mattered was the girl in front of him. He refused to see anyone but the Pyrrha Nikos he remembered. Another step and she was just a few feet away. He dropped his sword and moved forward again, his arm lifting to reach out to her. Her gaze did not waver from his, though she did stiffen, eyes widening. Was it his imagination, or was the red fading to green? One last step brought his hand to rest against her cheek. It was ice cold.

"Pyrrha? Is it really you?" She said nothing, but reached a clawed hand to cover his. She opened her mouth and gasped, trying to speak. She strained to force a word, closing her lips. Her free claw clasped him by the shoulder, tips digging into his skin almost painfully. She tilted her face down and squeezed her eyes shut. Muscles stood out on her neck and shoulders as she tried to speak in vain.

"What is it, Pyrrha?! Ren, Nora, help me!" he wasn't sure if they heard him until both were on either side of him. Ren was shaking the arm cupping her face, but Jaune wouldn't budge. She reached up to grasp Ren's forearm, and a single syllable escaped her lips.

"P… Please..." Nora had laid a hand on the arm that held Jaune's shoulder.

"Come on, Pyrrha, fight it!" Nora wailed. Pyrrha was shaking uncontrollably, and Jaune could feel thin rivulets of blood dribbling down his arm. Ren had stopped trying to dislodge Jaune's other arm, and had laid a gentle hand atop the claw grasping his.

"We are here, Pyrrha," he said in a low tone. Jaune could only think of one thing to say.

"I love you, Pyrrha. Please-" She growled and screamed the words.

"Please! Kill! ME!" She looked up, eyes flaring, glowing with emerald agony. Nora and Ren both gasped, and a sob escaped from deep within Jaune's chest. Her eyes flared back to an angry red and Jaune screamed in agony as the tips of her claws dug deeper into his shoulder. The pain was so great that it forced him to his knees. Pyrrha swung Ren off the ground and slammed him into Nora, sending them both flying to the side. Ren yelled in anguish as a wet ripping sound tore through the air. Jaune barely registered something hot and wet that slapped the side of his face.

Pyrrha let out a harsh growl and flung him down onto his back. "You should have killed me when you had – NO!" Jaune flailed his uninjured arm, and fingers found the hilt of his sword.

"Pyrrha, please! Don't make me do this!" Her eyes kept flashing back and forth from red to green.

"Finish it!" she howled. She loomed over him and swiped at his face, which missed by a hair's breadth. "Finish it or I swear I will make you watch as I tear them apart!" He was weeping, and he heard screaming. It didn't fully register that the voice was his. She looked down at him with hate and pain and confusion.

This was a nightmare. She struck at him again, howling in frustration. The force of the blow turned his head sharply, and tore deep furrows into his cheek. There was no pain, at least not physically. Jaune had started to hyperventilate as his heart broke into a million pieces. Pyrrha grinned at him, malice and glee in her features. She looked to where Ren and Nora lay in a tangle, moans barely audible. Jaune had a sudden and certain belief that she would do _exactly_ what she had promised. She turned to face them and took a halting step. His vision blurred as he lifted Crocea Mors and aimed it upward, then pushed with everything he had left.

The blade pierced her through the left side and the point emerged from her right. She froze and turned back to look at him. "I knew … you could do it… Jaune." She wavered in place and fell forward. Jaune heaved and flopped his body to cushion hers. He sat up, carefully rolling her over, laying her head in his lap as gently as he could. Pyrrha stared up at him, eyes faded back to the wonderful emerald he remembered.

"I'm so sorry, Pyrrha. I…" His chest hitched and he took a deep breath. "I failed again." Tears flowed freely, and she smiled up at him without pain. Her arm lifted and a claw to stroke his cheek with a light touch.

"No, Jaune, you didn't fail. I'm free, now." He shook his head and sobbed. "Don't be sad. At least this time we get to say goodbye. I get to tell you that…" Her voice trailed into a whisper, the light in her eyes fading. He clasped her hand before it could fall, rocking back and forth as he wept. He didn't notice the glow of golden light or the thrumming of his body, as if it were a tight string that had been plucked.

* * *

Legends tell of a bright light that illuminated the world of Remnant that night. It could be seen from all corners of the globe, and the name Pyrrha was heard by all, faintly whispered. Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren could recall nothing, and Jaune Arc never spoke of it. However, when anyone asked, he would only smile and say, "I saved her."

 **A/N - No, I will not write more - _Please_ do not ask me to. This was hard enough to write as it was.**


	4. Chapter 4

Qrow flew across the farming fields of Vale and into the city. He had been watching his nieces and her friends for weeks. He had spared a little concern for Yang's listless depression, but was more upset with Raven for not being there. He got why she was doing it, but that didn't mean she got a pass. Once the blonde kid, Jaune had started to discreetly gather supplies, he knew it was time. Ruby wasn't ever one to stay idle for long, which he'd been hoping for. But now that they were planning to skate out, he had something that needed to be taken care of. He soared across busy streets toward the safe zone and circled, squinting his beady eyes, searching.

When Qrow found the temporary housing, he landed on the roof and shifted back to human form. Well, they all thought it was human, and that was just fine by him. He jumped down to the street below and banged on the door as the last rays of daylight faded from the sky. When nobody answered the door, he banged on it with his flask, and then took a drink. The door whipped open to reveal the ever-disheveled form of Doctor Oobleck.

"Hey Doc, got a minute?" he asked.

"Ah Qrow, good of you to stop by! I just finished eating but there are leftovers if you're hungry." Qrow shook his head more from the rapid fire chatter than to refuse food. "Where are my manners? How is Miss Xiao Long doing?" Qrow took another drink before he answered.

"She's about as good as you'd expect. It'll be fine as soon as Tai stops coddling and gives her a kick in the pants. That's not why I came. Got a favor to ask of you." Barney was always good for a hand now and then, but this might be asking too much.

"Of course! I'm always happy to help! What is it you need? Books? Maps? Oh! The histories of brewing?" He had to be joking. Qrow narrowed his eyes and looked at his nearly-empty flask.

"Nah, I'm heading out soon and need you to look in on something while I'm gone. Meet me at Signal tomorrow morning?" The wild-haired man looked mildly disappointed, but agreed anyway.

"And what pray tell is this favor exactly?"

"Seeing is better than telling, Doc. See you tomorrow."

"Indeed. I shall see you bright and early Qrow!" He held up a finger like it was a brilliant point. Qrow rolled his eyes and stuffed his flask back into a pocket.

"Actually I was thinking more like the crack of noon. Gotta get a few cases together first." He didn't elaborate, and strolled down the street, leaving the Doc to scratch his head as he shouted a farewell after him.

* * *

"Look, Hei, I don't have time to argue about this or pat your twins on the head. I know what you get up to here after hours, and I haven't said anything to the cops." The pit fighting and gambling wasn't strictly illegal, but tax evasion was. Hei Xiong glared over his fancy red shades. "Besides, you still owe me for last year." Junior's glower deepened. Qrow may or may not have called in that favor once or twice already. It was just the two of them and the twin gothic wannabe girls. His goons had wisely noped out the second Qrow had shown his face.

"Fine," Junior grated. "How much do you need?" Qrow made a show of counting as he thought about how long he'd be gone. He stopped at six and two.

"For fuck sake, Branwen! Are you _trying_ to put me out of business?"

"Oh, don't give me that crap. It's all bottom shelf swill that nobody drinks anyway. I bet I could make ten rabbits out of all the dust those bottles have on them." Junior threw up his hands in disgust.

"That's not the point. Fine, you'll get your six cases and two kegs, but this makes us even. You want more, you pay for it like everyone else!" Junior whipped out a scroll and stumped off, shouting orders into the little device. Qrow grinned and winked at the twins, who leered at him as he turned and left the club.

* * *

Signal Academy was quiet, thankfully. Qrow didn't have time for screaming kids and shenanigans today. He waited in front of the school, and the Doc showed up five minutes early. He waved for the man to follow him as he slouched and shoved his hands in pockets, leading his fellow teacher without a word.

"Good morning to you too!" he said. Qrow grunted noncommittally and kept walking. They arrived at a heavy door that was labeled with warnings. Qrow fished out a key and put it in a padlock, opening it and handing both to Oobleck.

"So first thing, Doc, when you go in here, no loud noises, or you'll spook it." The Doc looked at the heavy padlock in his hand, and then turned eyes up to Qrow with a withering look.

"Qrow, what have you talked me into now?" Gone was the hundred-mile-a-minute gabble.

"You'll see." He stepped inside and motioned for his dupe to follow. The room was little more than a small closet, just big enough for a few boxes, barrels and three or four people to stand in. Another heavy door, this one made of banded steel. Oobleck's eyes nearly popped out of his head at some of the bulges standing out from the less-than even surface. Qrow fished out a dusty bottle and handed it to his suspicious companion. He pulled on the six inch lock bar and slid it free, which made the door open a crack. There was a series of terrible clangs, and the door shook with each impact. Qrow had been ready, having braced the door. It was being uppity today.

"Hey mutt, back off, or no breakfast for you!" The ruckus immediately halted, and Oobleck stiffened at the rough growl that issued through the opening. "That's more like it. Go on, get back to your corner." There were more snarls accompanied by shuffling and scrabbling noises. When he was satisfied, Qrow pulled the door open with a grunt and went inside.

The room was dimly lit by recessed panels at the floor, and the walls were plated with metal. A small Beowulf was crouched in the corner. It was all of three feet tall, and had next to no spurs or plates on it's body. It's teeth and claws still looked wickedly sharp despite it's comical appearance.

"My word," Oobleck breathed. "What on Remnant would possess you to keep one of these creatures here in the school?" His tone was hushed, which was smart. The Grimm glared at them and rumbled. When it spied the bottle, it whined.

"Give him the bottle, Doc. Mind you, don't _hand_ it over, just toss it." The doctor stared at Qrow as if he were a madman. "Hey, don't keep it waiting. It gets cranky if you mosey." Oobleck grimaced and gave the bottle an underhand toss. The Beowulf snatched it out of the air and tore the cork out with it's jaws, and then promptly guzzled the contents.

"What? How?" Qrow shrugged at the questions.

"Alright, Beerwolf, this here is Barney. He's gonna be bringing you your stuff while I'm gone, so behave yourself, or he won't come back." The tiny monster glared at the newcomer and whuffed. "Well, whattaya know, Doc, I think he likes you." He pointed at his 'pet'. "Alright, you, if you sit there like a good mutt, you'll get another before we leave." In response, Beerwolf took a crunching bite of the bottle and chewed it noisily. The thing repeated the action until the whole bottle was gone. "Doc, any questions?"

"I think I covered that aptly with what and how," he replied in a humorless tone.

"Right. I found the little mongrel raiding one of my emergency stashes." At the word mongrel, Beerwolf gnashed it's teeth.

"I've never seen a Beowulf that small. Did the alcohol stunt it's growth?" Oobleck was getting excited.

"Heh. That's what she said. I honestly don't know, Barney. I just know booze keeps it happy-ish." Oobleck looked at the claw marks and dents in the walls.

"I doubt those are indications of happiness," he said as he waved a slow hand at some of the damage.

"That's just play time. You should see when it decides to get uppity. Go grab another bottle, will ya'?" Oobleck complied, coming back and tossing the bottle at the little monster. It gurgled and rolled onto it's back, gripping the bottle with all four paws and guzzling the cheap beer. "Alright, Doc, back out nice and slow," he said as they both left the room. He closed the door and bolted it shut.

"How long have you been keeping it here?" the doctor asked.

"About six months. I was gonna kill it until I realized it was drunk as hell. I made the mistake of giving it some good stuff – don't do that, by the way. It gets feisty." Doctor Oobleck just shook his head in utter disbelief. "And don't ever turn your back on it. You don't need to take it for a walk or play fetch." He kicked a box, which rattled the bottles inside. "If you run out before I get back, there's a stack of Lien in my desk. It gets one or two a day and that keeps it sorta tame. Any more questions?"

"Are you crazy?"

"Probably."

 **A/N - I hope you've enjoyed this silly little prompt we've got this week. I won't be doing anything with this one, but it was sure fun to write. Let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**In response to the RWBY subreddit's thread: 'Ruby writes fluff and shipping fics about her friends' weapons and has headcanons for their personality.'**

"Weiss!" Ruby yelled. "It's finished!" The heiress winced and crossed her arms.

"Ruby, I'm standing right in front of you. There's no need to shout. What are you talking about?" She looked at the stack of papers in Ruby's hands, dreading the moment she knew had come again. Her teammate did her best and applied herself to their class assignments, but her writing was always, *always* filled with grammar and punctuation mistakes that she would inevitably have to correct for her.

"I wrote a story about Myrtenaster. Would you like to read it?"

"Ruby, how many times have I told you, you should just use a scroll and spellche- wait, what?"

"I thought it would be fun to make up a story!" she beamed. "I even did one for Gambol Shroud and another for Ember Celica. Yang and Blake are reading theirs right now." Weiss looked at the sheaf of papers with a mixed feeling of surprise and disdain. She was certain that she could handle editing another assignment, but this...

She turned to look at the other pair of girls. Yang was huffing, tears of silent laughter streaming down her face as she tried to keep from dropping her sister's story. Blake, on the other hand, had eyes big as dinner plates, jaws stretched wide. She finished hers, flipped it back to the front and started reading it again, expression changing to one of pleased shock.

Weiss turned back to face Ruby in growing horror, but nervously held out her hand anyway. Ruby deposited the handful of pages in Weiss' outstretched palm. She had barely finished the first paragraph when she looked up at the redheaded word-mangler. "Ruby! This is... This..."

Ruby thrust a finger in her direction stiffly. "Ah-ah-ah! You have to finish it first!" Weiss, taken aback by the girl's intensity. She pulled the chair out from her desk and sat numbly, turning her face to Ruby's monstrosity.

Yang was now laughing so hard that she was having trouble breathing. Blake was giving little gasps of... something. Weiss was uncertain, as she was occupied with what had to be the filthiest dialogue she had ever read in her entire life. At one point her eyebrows started to quiver uncontrollably, but she forced herself to finish reading. By the time she got to the last page, she was certain that every inch of her face was a deep shade of scarlet.

"Ruby! This is so filthy! What on Remnant possessed you to write such a thing?"

"You.. You don't like it?" Ruby's face was drawn down into sadness, and her eyes were tearing up.

Weiss took a deep breath. That would not do at all. She scanned it again, and realized something she hadn't noticed before. "Ruby, it's very well-written." Not one single mistake had been made. "I just never expected... Why can't your school reports be this clean?" Yang and Blake had traded their stories. Yang was now clearly transfixed in amazement, while Blake *giggled.*

"But you just said it was filthy..." Ruby mumbled, scuffing the carpet with her heel. Weiss closed her eyes and shook her head, counting silently to ten before setting the story on her desk. She stood and approached Ruby as if she were a ticking bomb.

"Ruby," she said, putting her hands on her teammate's shoulders, "I was just surprised is all. I had no idea you could write stuff like that." Ruby looked at the floor and nodded, still disappointed at the heiress' reaction. Weiss took a deep breath, just *knowing* that she was going to regret her next words. "It doesn't seem like it's finished, though. Can you write more?"

Ruby's head jerked up, and she grinned maniacally. "Really? You want more?" Weiss smiled in spite of feeling like she'd just taken a bite of lemon. Blake was on her feet and weaving drunkenly toward the door.

"Only if you promise to put that kind of effort into your homework."

"Done!" Ruby disappeared in a cloud of rose petals that led to her bunk. Furious scribbling could be heard within.

"Blake, where do you think you're going with that?" Yang asked.

Blake looked over her shoulder, trying to suppress laughter. "I'm - haha- I'm going to sh- HAHA! show this to hahahaArc an-n-nd N-Nikos." Blake folded over and guffawed, and kept crawling toward the door.

Yang shot out of her seat at the window. "Oh my GODS Blake! Don't you dare! If you do I swear this will find it's way to Winchester!" Blake kept laughing and paused only long enough to look back at her own partner.

"Worth it!" She stood up and dashed for the door, cackling madly as it slammed behind her. Yang didn't even bother opening the plank of wood and powered through it in an explosion of wood splinters and sawdust.

Weiss stared at the remains, listening as Yang and Blake wrestled and laughed and argued. "I hope you're happy with yourself, Ruby..." The ruckus gave way to uproarious fits of laughter as Ren opened team Juniper's door and asked what was going on.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N - A fun little response to the prompt, "Your flair is sick or wounded and you must care them, how do you react and try to cure them?" Flair being a RWBY character of your choice. Enjoy!**

"Salutations! Thank you for calling Atlas Technical Support, this is Beryl. How may I help you?" the woman asks cheerily. I've been at this for over fifteen hours, and her light-hearted mood set my teeth on edge.

"Yes, hi Beryl. I've got a really serious problem here. I'm trying to get Penny out of recovery mode and her autonomous responses are deviating from the manual you posted last year."

There is a moment of silence that drags on. Just when I start to wonder if the damned CCT connection is faulty *again*, she responds.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir. I was under the impression we had closed all cases on the Penny x302 model due to hardware expiration. Where did you find her?" I grimace and try not to recall the memory, but soldier on before I'm told that they can't offer me any support.

"I found her in a dumpster, if you can believe that." Some jackass had just... thrown her away. "The less we say about how much work I put into cleaning her up before I reassembled her, the better. Can you help me or not?"

"Well, sir, I'm not supposed to, but maybe if it's simple I can try to get you back on track. Can you give me her serial number?"

What? Of course she has a serial number, I think to myself with a grumble. I don't remember seeing anything like that, but I was a little occupied with all the rewiring and welding I'd been doing. Months of my life - *many* months - and I'd had to go over everything four times just to make sure I hadn't missed anything. "Oh, uh, I'm not sure where it would be."

"That's not a problem sir. It's located approximately one foot below her ventral maintenance hatch, on the left side."

I look at where it should be. "You have got to be fucking kidding me. You stamped it on her butt?"

"Sir..." Beryl began in an admonishing tone.

"I'm sorry, it's just... You'd think that somewhere a little less embarrassing and easier to access would be a better choice. Hang on." I grit my teeth and hook the scroll between my ear and shoulder so I can stand Penny up and turn her around. Beryl's voice is muffled, so I can't quite make out what she's saying as I gingerly reach down to lift the hem of her combat skirt. Penny's hand whips around and karate chops my wrist. "ARGH!" I jerk my hand away and jump back in shock. I wince as I realize that my left arm has gone completely numb from the elbow down. Penny returns to her original position and I grab the scroll, glaring at it as I fumble to put it on speaker.

"Sir, are you still there? Is everything okay?" She sounds genuinely concerned, but I can't help but detect a hint of smugness as well.

"Yeah, it's fine," I lied. If I didn't have a fracture somewhere, I'd be surprised. "I forgot to disable the bloody anti-upskirt technology."

"Yes, sir, I did try to warn you. What you'll need to do is-"

"Yeah, I found that in the manual. I just didn't think I'd need to worry about it while she was in recovery. Hold on." I cringe as I put my pins-and-needles filled fingers on her left shoulder and carefully position my fingers on the indicated pressure points with my other hand. I hear an audible, shrill beep and get the serial number while muttering a fervent apology to Penny. "It's X302PP417ZKS-101." I carefully replace the clothing before removing my hand. I hear typing on the other end of the scroll and glower at it impatiently.

"Hmmm. What sort of response are you getting that's different from the user guide?"

I try shaking the tingling sensation from my hand, which only makes it worse. "I made it as far as the first half dozen heuristic voice command challenge-responses, and instead of Gravity/Petunia, I get Gravity/Ruby. I've tried resetting the auditory circuits like the troubleshooting portion suggests, but it keeps getting hung up there."

"I see. Have you tried formatting or reformatting her memory blockchains?"

I was afraid she was going to ask me that. "I haven't yet. I'm trying really hard to avoid that if at all possible. I don't have enough storage media to back up everything. Is there anything else we can try first?"

"You might be able to parse the deviant code from her short-term memory. That was a common problem."

"I'm sensing a 'but' coming up, Beryl. What do I need in order to do that?" I already knew the answer, and if the Atlas Tech said no, I was sunk.

"*But* you'd need the administrative password to decrypt the data to plain text. I don't think I can give you that."

"Is it possible for you to get approval? She's still on last year's firmware version - one six-one cab three." I held my breath and wiped sweat from my brow with my good forearm.

"Please hold, sir." She clicked off and the next four or five minutes passed with agonizing slowness. The line clicked again and she returned with a sunny tone. "Alright, I can't give you the password, but here's what we *can* do." I breathed a sigh of relief that was short-lived. "However, before I can proceed, my supervisor has insisted that you send a detailed report. We've never had an opportunity like this and need to see how you managed it at all."

"Fine, I can do that," I grated out. "I documented everything with video though, so it will take a while to upload." It was better than I'd hoped for, but it was going to murder my data rates. I resisted the urge to give my camera the finger, but I did scowl at it.

"Excellent! I'll need you to connect your scroll with her secondary terminal."

Oh, they were going to remotely parse it? I sighed as I opened the little compartment inside the ventral access panel. A wired scroll jack popped out and I deposited the device into it, keying the permission icon when it popped up. Several minutes went by while the technician worked her voodoo. When she was finished, the scroll blinked and chimed.

"There you are, sir. The relevant files have been decoded and placed in the PennyTS folder. I also took the liberty of adding our information to your scroll's contacts list. Unfortunately, we've exceeded the allotted time allowed for legacy support. If you need further assistance, you will need to pay the premium subscription fee, which is-"

"Thank you, Beryl, but I've put all I could scrape together into this project. I'm sure I'll be able to pick it up from here." I was exhausted, and didn't want to listen to the robo-script. Getting enough Lien together required me to have two part-time jobs that felt like wage-slavery. I hadn't slept in two days and just wanted to be done. "I'll be sure to send the video logs in the morning." I looked out the window and realized that the sun was just starting to come up. "Scratch that, I'll send them this afternoon."

"Very well, sir. Thank you for calling Atlas Technical Support. Have a pleasant day!" I jabbed the disconnect button a lot harder than I needed to and impatiently tapped the folder I needed. I rubbed my fingers together as I read, the feeling returning to them slowly. I worked for another hour before finally getting Penny out of recovery mode. I tried not to shout in wordless frustration as she began a recompiling sequence. Instead, I let the scroll fall onto the workbench with a thump and flopped onto the nearby couch face-first. I was awakened by a gentle but urgent prodding on my arm.  
"Alright, alright," I mumbled into the pillow. I patted the floor for my glasses, and then sat up when I found them. I rubbed my face a couple of times and yawned. "Yahhhhh, tell Junior I'll be right th-" I put on my glasses, and inches from my face was Penny's.

"Salutations, Mr. Shandromand! Were you the one that fixed me?"


	7. Chapter 7

****SPOILER ALERT! Mass Effect Andromeda****

Cora Harper couldn't remember how she arrived to the forest clearing she found herself in. Comms were down, and her omni-tool showed that the Tempest wasn't in orbit. Hell, it wasn't even in the system. In fact, the last thing she did remember was following Scott into the Remnant vault on a newly charted system.

"SAM, where am I?" she asked aloud.

There was a pause before the AI responded. When he did, the vocals were tinny and mildly distorted, though she could understand well enough. "Unknown. There was a burst of neutrino particles accompanied with quantum field distortions as you passed through the gravity well within the vault. I detect artificial structures in the immediate vicinity."

Cora cast about to take in her surroundings, stopping when she spied a game trail through the undergrowth. She pointed at it. "What about that path, Sam? Will that get me there? And what about the others, Scott and Vetra, are they nearby?" She didn't like this situation. This place reminded her of Havarl, but more tame. That didn't necessarily mean it was safe.

"The path is not direct, however, scans of the terrain indicate that it would be the most efficient route. None of the others are within range."

Cora set off at a light jog. "That's good enough for me." She ran for about twenty minutes, during which she observed the sound of what she presumed were forest creatures. Coupled with the fact that there was an abundance of flora, it was reasonable to assume that this world was very habitable. A strong outpost candidate, she thought. That assumed, of course, that she could get back to civilization first. "One thing at a time, Harper," she muttered between short breaths.

The peaceful surroundings, along with the rhythm of her pumping legs and arms, began to lull her into a kind of meditative state. Her concern about being lost on an alien planet drifted to the background. Panic would not do her any good. There could easily be an Angaran presence here, maybe a lost colony. Even if there was no one here, and if she couldn't find a way back to her team- her friends - she could probably survive off the land as a last resort. Her Asari commando training had come from huntresses with centuries of experience, and she had learned those lessons well.

Cora was mentally reviewing her supplies when she heard shouts and howls from farther down the trail. She lengthened her stride into an all-out sprint, flooding her arteries with adrenaline. Less than a minute later, she broke through the tree line and skidded to a stop.

The scene before her was chaos. A blonde, well-tanned man in umber cargo shorts and a tan vest tumbled amidst more than a dozen upright wolf creatures of some sort. The tumble turned into a roll that launched him up from the ground directly in front of one of the wolfman-thing. His knee rocketed into the thing's lower jaw with a sharp crack even as it tried and failed to encircle the man with outstretched arms. The man was too quick - and agile, Cora noted. He nimbly planted his feet on his stunned opponent's shoulders and leaped away from the enraged beast like a coiled spring. The wolf was flung violently back into two of its fellows, and they all fell into a tangled mess of snarling, furry limbs.

The blonde's trajectory carried him between two more wolves. He snatched each by an ear, which caused him to lurch to a stop and flip up. He used that sudden transfer of momentum to smash the two heads together. One yelped and jerked away, and the other snarled and swiped its claws wildly. The man was good, but there was only so much he could do while he hung suspended in the air. He threw up a hasty double forearm block, and the blow sent him flying toward another pair of wolves. They had anticipated it, and had already jumped towards him, claws outstretched.

Cora had seen enough, and charged in at full speed. When she was about twenty meters from the nearest wolf, she gathered her biotic energy and flung herself forward with a yell. The attack took the creature completely by surprise, and drove it face first into the ground. She followed it up with a nova strike to the base of its skull, which collapsed with a satisfying crunch. The force of the explosion threw three more of them forward into the air.

Cora wasted no time snatching them up with a singularity, which caught up another two. She grinned and drew her Avenger rifle. "Just like fish in a barrel!" she shouted, and she opened fire, giving each wolf a three round burst.

"Well alright, now it's a party!" the man yelled in cheery reply.

Cora's smile deepened and gave way to a laugh. "Something tells me these bums didn't bring any beer!"

"I know, right? What a- Why you little-!" his reply was interrupted by a particularly nasty growl, followed by a series of meaty sounding smacks. Cora could see blurring legs and arms from the corner of her eye. "Buncha' moochers!"

 **A/N - Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long since I posted anything. No, I haven't grown bored of the stories I have going. Between the suddenly crazy hours at work, and the cubital tunnel problems I'd been having, I had to take a step back from writing. The good news is that my elbows are feeling much better now, and things at work are hopefully going to settle down soon. So rejoice, you my handful of faithful fans - story time will resume very soon! Here we have a little taste of something that piqued my interest, a little mini-prompt about a favorite character from the last game you played and how well they would fare after being tossed into Remnant. It's a it of fun, and who knows? Maybe I'll write a little more for it. ;)**

 **Until next time!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Good evening, all! I'm back with some more short fic, and good news! After sussing out some medical issues, I'm slowly getting back to normal. As far as work goes, things are still as busy as ever. I decided that since this isn't likely to change, I'd start smuggling my laptop in to work and pecking at things here and there. D &M and FTD chapters are back to work, and while I won't promise a firm date, expect to see new stuff soon! This piece comes from the Writing Prompt Wednesday free-for-all post we had for Independence Day. The prompt is: Things Taiyang does to pass the time by himself while his daughters are out adventuring. Enjoy!**

Tai woke to anxious corgi snuffles at his face. He groaned, laughed and pushed Zwei's eager snout away from his face. Zwei gave an insistent bark and pushed his head underneath Tai's hand, so he obliged the pup with vigorous scratches to his ruff and ears, which the dog leaned into. He sat up after a few moments and stretched with a yawn and then rubbed the sand from his eyes. He contemplated going back to sleep, but the sun was just starting to shine through the window.

"Well I guess it's a brand new day, Zwei. Better get to it." He threw back the covers and swung his legs out of the bed. He stooped to make up the covers and straighten the pillows. Summer would give him no end of grief if he… He stopped patting the pillow back into shape and sighed. "After all these years, that one still gets me." He turned to look at the photos on the dresser, lingering on the frame that held Summer's image, an enigmatic smile spread on her face.

It would have been so easy to crawl back into bed, just forget about the world and feel sorry for himself and what he'd lost. Then he shifted his gaze to the next photo of himself, Yang, and Ruby, and shook his head. Never again. After Qrow had come with the bad news, he'd done exactly that. He'd been able to handle it when Raven had run off, but Summer had been there to help him through it. Once she was gone, it was too much for him. To say that he'd fallen apart was a colossal understatement. Yang had done her best to take care of Ruby, and their uncle had helped when he wasn't off on one of Ozpin's damned assignments.

It wasn't until Yang had wandered off with Ruby and nearly gotten them both killed that he realized that he hadn't lost everything. Qrow had been furious, and talked sense to Tai the only way he'd known how, by beating the crap out him. 'You had better get your head out of your ass, Tai. Summer might be gone, but your girls are still here, and they need their father. I don't care what you have to do – get laid, get back into a routine, get drunk, but figure it out. I can't always be here to save them.' And he was right to treat Tai like an idiot, because that's what he had been.

Zwei had been Peter's idea to help him with the rough mornings. 'There's nothing like a family pet to help start the day!' he'd said. Training Zwei had been Yang's idea, and they'd made a family activity of it, which was why he'd been roused this morning, and nearly every morning he'd been at home since Yang was nine. Tai kissed two fingers and touched the photo of Summer, and set about his daily routine. First breakfast for himself and Zwei, followed by a run through the forest trails. By the time he'd returned and grabbed a quick shower and change of clothes, it was midmorning.

He weeded the garden and watered the flowers that Summer had planted all those years ago. Fortunately for him, Yang and Ruby had kept them up when he hadn't been himself. He busied himself with housework until lunch, and after that it was time to get ready for his afternoon class at Signal. On his way down the path to the gate, he glanced back. The cabin that he, Qrow, and Summer had built when they found out Raven was pregnant stood, warm and inviting. And while it might be empty now, it still held plenty of memories for him to return to. He only hoped that his girls could do the same soon.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello again! I'm back with a second piece from the Writing Prompt Wednesday FFA. Before I lay it out for you, I need to confess that I'd been awake for far too long when I picked this out and started writing. It is** ** _extremely_** **silly, and I hope you won't judge me too harshly for it. The prompt is: Salem offers world peace and to undo all the damage she has done (including deaths) in exchange for your least liked ship becoming canon.**

I stared at my mug of coffee for the third time, still not entirely certain that it hadn't been spiked with LSD. It had also been a really long week at work; lack of sleep could be another explanation. Or maybe it was some sort of elaborate prank. Whatever the case may be, today was my day off, and the… woman sitting across from me sat primly, bone white, vein-streaked hands folded across her lap.

She tilted her head, blank of expression. "Come now, Shandromand, is it such a difficult proposal to consider?" Her voice lilted across me like spiced honey. As much as I didn't want to admit it, she *was* rather attractive. Why is it that I'm always drawn to the crazy ones? That's what she was – some crazed fangirl come to play a sadistic joke on me.

I sighed and took a sip of coffee. "Honestly? I've only slept about fourteen hours this week: I'm not even sure you're real." In response to that, she leaned forward and scraped her wicked looking nails across my free hand hard enough to put scratches into the skin. My hand twitched and grasped her wrist. The flesh was cold, like that of a corpse, but also hummed with an almost electric energy.

If she seemed surprised at the contact, her only reaction was to raise an eyebrow. "I am very real, as is my proposal." I must be having a full-blown delusion. You could feel pain in those, right? Then another thought occurred to me, and I just could not help myself.

"Perhaps I could offer a counter proposal," I replied. As I spoke, I gently rubbed my thumb in circular motion across the inside of her wrist. The look she gave me was inscrutable, and for a moment I thought to myself, this is it, this is how I die. Then she surprised me with a rich, dark laugh.

"Oh, my, they did warn me you were a naughty man." She disengaged and raised a finger, wagging it back and forth. "As entertaining as that notion might be, I doubt you would survive the encounter."

I pouted just a little, "Salem, I can count on two hands the number of times I've avoided death. Are you sure I can't convince you?" She rested her hand atop the other in her lap and shook her head, causing the crystals tied to her bone spurs to tinkle. "No?" I sighed in mock disappointment. "You can't blame a guy for trying." The look she gave me suggested otherwise. As far as delusions go, this was turning out to be a disappointment.

"Is it so much to ask for? I offer to undo all of the unpleasant things I've caused; end the threat of the Grimm, give Remnant peace, even resurrect the fallen." That statement gave me pause. Supposing for a second that this was actually happening, the little I knew about the character didn't indicate that she was capable of bringing people back to life.

"Alright, fine. Let's assume for the moment that I haven't gone completely off the deep end. That's an awfully tall order, even for you. How do I know it's within your power?" She didn't speak, but instead raised her hand. Four objects appeared, hovering above her upturned palm. A small tube of paper tied with a ribbon, an old-fashioned feather pen in an inkpot, a candle held in a bronze candlestick, and a metal flask floated there. Crap. I knew what those were. "The relics. That means…" My train of thought stuttered at the implications. "How far did you have to turn back the clock to have this conversation, and why the hell do you even need me? You can do anything you want with those."

Salem gave a disgusted grunt. "To answer the first question, it has been several years, by your reckoning. The second is… complicated."

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. "I've got the next three days off, lady. If you can rewind time, we've got plenty of it to spare. Try me."

Salem sighed in frustration and made a fist. "The legend, to put it simply, is overstated. The relics are potent, but as I'm sure you are aware, power does not come without price. I envision my desire, and they set forth requisites."

My eyebrows disappeared into my hairline. "And that lead you to me? Why?"

Salem's fist crashed down on the arm of her chair. "There is no why!" she shouted, and her eyes flared with an angry red glow. She regained her calm a split second later. "There is only who and what. *You* must choose."

"You would have me believe that you want peace on Remnant, with no Grimm to trouble the human race? I've gotta say, I'm not sure I buy that."

Salem tilted her head to the side and stared at me in silence for a full minute. She seemed to consider something before nodding to herself. "I was not always as I am now. In my previous life, I came to believe that their way was foolish. They had the relics, and they refused to use them."

"Ah, but the relics aren't all-powerful. If they need requirements fulfilled to change reality, maybe they – whoever *they* were – couldn't meet them. The two you're asking me to force together weren't around then, I presume."

"Perhaps, but they would not even make the attempt." Her gaze tilted down and she lifted her palms to look at them. "I've done many terrible things to arrive at this moment. You can think of me as a monster, but I would argue that their hesitation made them no better. How many countless thousands have died because they failed to act?"

"That's… a good point." It was hard not to feel conflicted. Assuming this entire conversation was real and I wasn't actually just drooling in some padded room, wearing a straightjacket. "I don't suppose I could talk to Blake before I decide, could I?"

Salem leaned forward, closed her eyes and tilted her head in concentration; as she did so, the relics began to rotate in a circle. When she opened her eyes again, the look she gave me was predatory. "Such a thing might be arranged, but what purpose would it serve? She would have no memory of the conversation."

"You're asking me to sign off on her being with a psychopath. It only seems fair to me that she have some sort of say in the matter, shouldn't she?" Salem rose to her feet, gesturing for me to do the same with a wave of her hand.

As I stood, she drew close enough to brush up against me. There was a definite chill emanating from her, which gave me goosebumps. She was also a good foot shorter than me, which forced her to lean her head back to look me in the eyes. "What makes you so certain she will believe you?" I could see the relics from the corner of my eye. They had fanned out to encircle the both of us, and seemed to be glowing a pale blue.

"I guess I'll just have to use my boyish charm," I said with a grin. "What's the price of admission?" She said nothing for a moment, electing instead to wrap her arms around my waist. I put my arms around her more out of reflex than anything else. She rested the side of her face against my chest, and the last words I heard were husky, and more than a little terrifying.

"Let us hope that you are as resilient as you claim to be." Then the world went white.


	10. Chapter 10

**Another fanart-inspired piece. The art is courtesy of mariavgsriu over at deviantart, with the piece titled My Partner!**

Weiss Schnee was most definitely _not_ pleased. She'd been in Mistral for almost a week, and there had been no sign of her sister. Discrete inquiries had yielded no results, and as far as she was able to learn, there wasn't even so much as a whisper of Atlas military presence, which was odd.

Of course there _was_ a complement of soldiers in the city, but they were stationed at the embassy - she dare not show her face there. General Ironwood surely had sent word that the heiress - the _former_ heiress had gone missing. They had orders, no doubt, to detain her to be picked up. She knew that the closing of Atlas' borders wouldn't stop them from doing exactly that. She would be damned if she was going to be locked away like her mother had been. Death would be preferable to that.

There was also the White Fang to consider. Without the protection of the family name, she had to take additional steps to prevent any kidnapping attempts. Her solution thus far had been to acquire a wig and apply a judicious amount of concealer to hide the scar over her left eye. She had also procured some loose-fitting robes. It looked absolutely ridiculous when she looked in the mirror. This was a bad plan, but she didn't see another choice.

Weiss had prepared for this eventuality as much as possible; she knew the minute her father had come for her, she might have to run away from home. She had raided her father's cache of lien, and while she felt slightly guilty about stealing money, he _had_ just disinherited her. By her estimate, she had enough to last a few weeks - maybe two months if she were frugal. Of course, the money would have stretched farther: The bribe to smuggle herself out of Atlas had taken a not insignificant portion.

She checked her scroll for the third time that morning, hoping to find some mention of Winter, or even herself. There were no news articles about either of them. Her father must have chosen to keep her escape a secret - or possibly the news hadn't made it out of Atlas at all. She paced across the floor of the tiny, ramshackle room and tried to decide on her next move. If Winter was here in Mistral, then she must be operating incognito, which would make her impossible to find.

With her choices severely limited, she arrived at the conclusion that she would need to be more aggressive. She sat down at the writing table and took up pen and paper to draft a message for Winter. She couched the language in such a way that it wouldn't reveal her location, but would give enough information for them to meet. She would need to be clever, though. A messenger service to deliver the letter, a change of hostel afterward, and a cutout to insulate her from any sort of trap (in case someone other than Winter read the letter).

Once she was satisfied with the writing, another idea occurred to her. She made two more copies and hastily added a postscript to all three. Once done, she sealed each in an envelope with wax from a cheap candle, pressing the family emblem in as it cooled. Next she scanned the local CCT for messenger services and chose three decently-rated carriers at random. After a moment of debate, she decided to have them all come to her room directly. It was unseasonably warm, and the disguise was stuffy. This room would be vacant before the sun had gone down anyway.

Weiss was pleased to see a few features offered by most services - she wouldn't even need to answer the door for two of them. She entered the Atlas embassy for delivery location, put her sister's name in the recipient field, and paused at sender. Obviously she couldn't put her name, and any missive her father sent would likely end up in the garbage. Klein had intimated that there had been a falling out between Winter and her father, and that they currently weren't speaking. Her mother would be no better a choice, because she didn't send letters to anyone at all. In the end, she put Whitley in - it was true there was no love lost between the siblings, but it would most assuredly pique her interest. At least, she hoped it might; it would have to do.

Weiss charged the first delivery and leaned the letter just outside her door, making sure to hide a small amount of lien as a tip behind it. It was nearly half an hour before she heard footsteps approach, pause and retreat with a muffled thanks. She repeated the process with the second service, though the wait for this was closer to an hour. By the time the messenger arrived, she had scouted her next temporary room and was waiting impatiently. She debated taking the tip back, but decided against it - you got what you paid for, after all.

The third messenger came knocking in rapid-fire staccato less than five minutes after she placed the order. "Lightning Dust Messengers, I'm here to take your package!" a young woman's voice cheerily said. Weiss hadn't expected such a fast response, and rushed to don her wig and robes.

She cursed having put off dressing up until _after_ putting in the request. "Oh! Just a minute, please!" Once she was passably concealed, she opened the door. "You got here *qui-" Her jaw dropped open in shock. The 'young woman' was none other than Ruby Rose. Weiss was stunned.

Ruby put on a bright smile. "Hi there! You have a 'Whitley' here with a package that needs delivering?" Weiss' mouth clicked shut and opened a few times as she tried and failed to make words come out. "Is everything okay, Miss? Are you having some kind of fit?" Which of course, only _Ruby_ would ask that question so rudely.

"Ruby! Rose!" Weiss huffed. "What are _you_ doing here?"

The brunette frowned, and then popped the smile back into place. "Duh, I'm here to take your delivery! You don't look like a Whitley, though. Wait, have we met befo-" Weiss tugged her wig off. "Weiss?"

"Of course it's me you dolt," she replied. Only Ruby could try her patience, even after months apart.

 **"Weiss!"** Ruby rushed into the room and slammed into her erstwhile partner. "My BFF!" she crowed as she wrapped her in a tight hug. The force of it took them both to the ground, and Weiss didn't care one bit. She wasn't really a hugger, but just this once she made an exception.


	11. Chapter 11

**Dive: Inspired by a piece of fanart - I can't find the source for this, so if you want to see it, you will need to search the RWBY subreddit for Dive, posted by the user GrapesWithCoffee.  
**

Yang idled Bumblebee through the somewhat crowded streets of Mistral. She had only just come through the city gate in the last couple of hours. Mistral was nothing like Vale, its streets were wide, but they all followed a never ending curve. The press of people and vehicles frustrated her, but she gritted her teeth and resolved to keep rolling forward. What she wouldn't give for a straightaway and a little empty space. How in the world was she going to find Ruby in this mess?

Hours later, Yang had finally parked in disgust. Her legs needed stretching, her bike a dust charge, and her tummy some food. The former was simple enough, and her choices for the latter were abundant and varied. Prices were about what she had expected, but not when it came to charging her bike. The price of dust was even more outrageous here than it had been back home.

It was dumb luck when she spotted the unkempt mop of blonde hair wander past the café window. He even paused at the sight of Bumblebee and looked around, searching the crowd. He tried calling someone on his scroll before giving up in frustration and shoving it into his back pocket.

Yang gave up on trying to get the waiter's attention, and hurriedly dropped a reasonable amount of lien on the table as she rushed to the door. Jaune was taking long strides in pursuit of a retreating woman that kind of looked like her, but not really. He was calling her name when she got close enough to leap at his back.

"Hey! Lady Killer!"


	12. Chapter 12

**A response to a Whose Line post (which I then cheated and augmented with a prompt suggestion from WPW):**

Mercury growled and took a step forward, only this time, Emerald wasn't there to stop him. Watts had gone too far this time. Unfortunately, before Mercury could take another step, a black-furred ... something was thrust between him and his target. Both his and Watts' eyes slid to look at the person holding the thing out. Mercury considered himself pretty tough, but he felt the blood drain from his face and arms when his gaze met the red-black eyes of Salem.

"You will stop this now. Both of you have been warned, _repeatedly_." She pushed the large wad of fur - was it a rug? - at Mercury. "Put it on." Mercury hesitated a hair too long. " **Now!** " He snatched the bulky object in both hands and realized that he was holding an oversize fur sweater. Reluctantly, he pulled it on over his head and gagged.

"Oh gross, this thing smells disgusting!"

"Consider that the next time you choose to pursue one of your petty squabbles." He jerked his head through the hole, or rather he tried to. When he didn't succeed, he felt her freezing cold hands grasp his arm, which immediately stilled all movement from him. She tugged at the shoulder and his head emerged. Her back was to Watts, who wore a smirk that Mercury wanted to wipe off his face with his boot. "Is something amusing Watts?" she asked without turning. "You will be joining the young man."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hey all! Submitted for your approval: A semblance does not develop over time or lie dormant - the remnant soul of a deceased huntsman chooses their candidate. They're ALL arguing over Jaune to this day (post-v4).** **I wasn't entirely satisfied with the result, but here it is anyway. More at the bottom if you want to hear about adventures on Reddit!**

I'm still not sure I'm happy with the result, but I can't think of any way to really improve on it. Enjoy!

* * *

In the beginning, there were but three. Immolatius, Gravitus, and Parity. They had gathered to the weight of a burgeoning Vessel, which held hues of vicissitude.

 **"It's like a force field!"** The Vessel exclaimed.

 _Look at this kid. He can't even awaken his own Aura!_

 _Shh! Be quiet, it's about to happen - have some respect!_

 **"Yes, if you wanna look at it that way."** Polarity steps toward the Vessel and says the words, extending her luminescence to suffuse the sleeper. Tension mounts in the air. No matter how many times they witness it, they never know what to expect.

 _I can't believe we have to-_

 _SHUSH!_

 _Yes, be quiet!_ a cacophany of dissonant thoughts rise up, only to be shocked into silence as blinding light floods the clearing.

 **"...the energy that protects you now is your own. You have a lot of it."**

 _By the gods and spirits above..._

 _Look at how strong he is!_

 _DIBS!_

 _Hey! You can't call dibs! You didn't even want anything to do with him in the first place!_

 _That doesn't mean I can't change my mind!_

 _There must be consensus._ And so the debate carried on.

* * *

Where there were three, now there were ten. They watched as Capacitance stood at the precipice with the Vessel.

 **"Yeah, but I can't make that jump..."**

 _The kid has no form, Banshee._

 _You have to admit, the potential alone would be worth it._

 _And don't think we don't know what you're doing, Immolatius. Calling out his shortcomings isn't going to dissuade us._

 _Can't blame a Semblance for trying..._

 _This has to be the longest Choosing ever._

 _There have been far longer - stop exaggerating, Kinescence. You weren't even here first!_

 _And from what I hear, you were ready to give this one up, Immolatius._

 **"Nora! Nail it!**

 _The Vessel has a grasp of leading the battlefield, at least._

 _Oh sure, that's easy, Gravitus._

 _No, it isn't. Either one can, or one cannot. This one can._

 _I want him._

 _You and everyone else here, sister. Get in line._

* * *

Where there were ten, now there were three and thirty. Some had retreated to other Vessels, but many remained or returned.

 _He is easily pushed, isn't he?_

 _He has a spine, he just needs to find it._

 _He stood up to Polarity. There's something to be said for wanting to do things for oneself._

 _Yeah, and there's also nothing wrong with leaning on others, Splendor. Polarity was only trying to help._

 _Velocity seems to have talked some sense into him._

 **"You think you're a big, strong man now?"** The light of the Vessel flares as The Fist swings.

 _See! He found it!_

 _Finding is not keeping, Solaris._

 _Immolatius, for the last time, knock it off!_

 _Never!_

* * *

Three and sixty-three had gathered, and still there was no consensus.

 **"I thought maybe we'd skip Aura tonight... Might go on a jog or something."**

 _He seems obsessed with Conjuration._

 _He should focus more on his footwork!_

 _His swordplay_ has _improved, though. Is Immolatius still pouting?_

 _He refuses to see what is right in front of him, Escutcheos._

 _Immolatius, or the boy?_

 _Yes._

* * *

The numbers are beyond easily counting now. None care, save for the debate that rages on.

 **"Totally fine, done this before, done this before..."**

 _Sloppy._

 _But effective. You can't argue with the results, Quintessence. I suppose you think your swiftness will make up for his imprecision._

 _It couldn't hurt._

 _He needs something with range if his rate of improvement continues to plod._

 _We've been at this for over a year. Evil is afoot; we need consensus soon._

 _There's always evil afoot, Gravitus._

* * *

A small core begins to form within the hundreds drawn to the Trials. Such events are a veritable garden of potential Vessels, though many still argue for the young man.

 **"And we're in the middle of a conversation! What don't you get about that?!"**

 _He comes from a long line of fighters._

 _Curious that they did not rear him for the fight._

 _He chose to do it on his own, even in the face of adversity._

 _He has improved, but will it be in time for what's coming?_

 _All the more reason to find consensus. Clearly I am the best choice!_

 _I still think the ability to strike at distance would serve him best._

 _And I think he needs to be faster._

* * *

Factions have formed, declaring for one of three.

 _We need to settle this now. Polarity will be rejoining us soon._

 _It would be better to decide before that happens._

 _He has found strength in misery. It is too soon for Polarity to join with a Vessel anyway._

 _He's going to burn._

 _At least with me, he_ might survive...

 **A/N** \- So some of you may be asking, what's this Writing Prompt Wednesday thing I keep going on about, and I realize that I have been remiss in explaining. About a year ago, the rwby subreddit was just getting back into full swing with v4. This usually means that the already active sub is positively frantic with fan posts, conversations, and general insanity. One of the regulars - as in, those of us who stick around for the show's hiatus (and put up with all the shitposting) - suggested that we revisit the idea of having a regular writing prompt thread. Now, /r/RWBY has a Whose Line Is It thread each week, but that thing is pandemonium. Top level comments suggest a theme or situation, and people write something if they feel like it.  
Enter the user, PUNished_Venom_Yang (don't ask, I have no idea). He floated the suggestion for something more targeted and organized. The mods were open to the suggestion, and when nobody immediately stepped forward, I offered to test it out. I'm happy to say that it went well enough that we were allowed to continue, and have been casting mad plans and stories into the sub each Wednesday.  
Over time, the event has evolved into what it is today. Each week prompts are voted on, while the previous week's vote is offered. Typically we have about a dozen regulars and semi-regulars who come to write. So far this year, we've had just over 300 stories submitted, and with those submissions also come suggestions for new prompts. I've had to create a spreadsheet to keep them all organized - this document also contains links to previous threads and the details of each, as well as user data, which I use to keep track of participation. We had a contest last December with some pretty decent prizes (a Rooster Teeth First subscription, a steam key for Tomb Raider, and an RT Store gift card) - we plan to do this again, and I'm heading to Portland next weekend in an effort to secure a _really_ nice prize, if I can.  
A few months ago, I got a little bored with the usual thread, and so started planning special events, starting with a 4th of July free-for-all celebration. The thread was massive, and eleven of us managed to write 48 pieces, to a total of almost 45k words! I had also created an independent subreddit, /r/RWBYprompts, in the event that the core sub didn't respond well to our little experiment. I'm pleased to say that while it wasn't necessary, my little sub now has moderators, and we're working in earnest to turn it into something productive.  
I know some of you already know this (thanks for stopping by!), or at least have some idea. For those of you that don't, feel free to come hang out, or maybe even write with us! Feel free to pm me with questions if you want to know more! :)


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: This is from the most recent WPW thread, with the prompt being: Cinder or Emerald are adopted into the Schnee family instead of being discovered by Salem/Cinder. This also marks the week where we officially decided to start offering three items to choose from (our suggested prompts sheet has nearly 500 entries)!**

"Weiss, I don't know about this," Emerald whispered. "It's one thing to pull a prank on dad, but this is pushing it. He was _really_ mad last time." She was hunched behind the knight statue, just down the hall from Jacques' study.

"Oh come on, Emerald!" Weiss grumbled from just behind her. "You were just nervous last time. He almost didn't notice the bucket of worms. Do you want to go to Beacon or not?" Emerald fumed in silence.

Ever since she'd discovered her semblance, she and Weiss had gotten into all kinds of mischief. The pranks were usually harmless enough, and their father had a sense of humor - most of the time, anyway. Willow put them up to it, more often than not, and so he suffered the indignities with stoicism.

"Explain the plan to me again, Weiss."

"Ugh. It's simple, Em." Her tone was a bit annoying, but she knew her adopted sister meant well. "You know this is when he does paperwork. I'll distract him by asking if I can go visit the mines, and you'll sneak the consent forms into the pile of other things he has to sign. Did you memorize the purchase orders I lifted last night?"

Emerald grinned wickedly and looked over her shoulder in concentration. Weiss jerked back and pawed at her face, pulling away a handful of nothing but air. "You said you wouldn't do that any more, Em!' she hissed.

Emerald snickered at her sister's irritation as the girl held up the imaginary page. "I said I wouldn't _trick_ you anymore, Weiss." She rolled her eyes and looked the illusion over. "Besides, you're starting to climb that high horse again. Not very appropriate, given what we're about to do, sis."

Weiss frowned at her, and rubbed the 'paper' between her fingers, checking for texture. She even lifted it to her nose and gave it a cursory sniff. Emerald smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Satisfied?"

The Heiress pursed her lips, but nodded. Emerald dropped the ghost paperwork and held out her hand. "The consent forms?" The papers were drawn from where she had them tucked in her belt, and deposited them into Emerald's waiting fingers. "Alright, let's get this over with. If I get caught, you're covering my allowance."

Weiss nodded in agreement and moved to stand in front of the study door.

 **post-A/N - I know this one is really short, but I couldn't stay awake to write more. I might tinker with it later, after RCCC. ;)**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N -** Before you begin this snippet, you may want to consider going to the RWBYPrompts subreddit and searching for the Writing Prompt Wednesday #50 entry. I say this because my little bit down below is part six of several entries by other authors. We held a special daisy chain event in which an attempt to write a backstory for Neo was made. That being said, if you don't want to go hunting, by all means. Just keep in mind you'll be missing a _lot_ of context. ;)

As wonderful as her stolen time with Fox had been, Neo should have known it was too good to be true. The weekend had been theirs to share in relative peace. Coco had opted to stay at home with family; Yatsuhashi had sensed the change between them and had found a reason to make himself scarce. It was the happiest time she could recall since going home with her mom.

* * *

"Neo! Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Coco was angry, and Neo couldn't fathom why. Everyone talked *at* her about showing restraint, and quite frankly she was sick of it. Her latest sparring session in combat class had taken a drastic turn. She had been trying some new moves, and had pushed her opponent too hard. The girl would survive, but her broken leg wouldn't heal quickly. Beryl something? She couldn't remember, and didn't care to.

"This is serious! Goodwitch is talking to Ozpin about whether or not to suspend the entire team, Neo," Coco growled. "I don't give a damn what your problem is. We're going to settle this right now." Neo refused to look at her. Fox and Yatsuhashi were seated on their beds. She couldn't look at them either. They had both, in their own way, tried to talk to her about the aggression she had displayed in recent weeks. Fox was patient and kind, but Yatsu had become increasingly frustrated with her of late.

She took out her scroll and typed in a message. "If you're only going to tell me that it wasn't your fault, don't bother," Coco said, chopping the air with a knife-hand. Neo paused in her message and scowled. "We're here to learn how to fight monsters, not turn into them."

"Coco!" Fox shouted. "That's going too far. It was an accident." That much was partially true, anyway.

"Accident my ass, Fox! Goodwitch warned her twice. Did you not even hear her, Neo?" Neo actually didn't recall hearing the Professor say anything at all. She began tapping words in again. She finally turned to face Coco, scroll held out for her to see the message. "You were trying something new, and didn't know how to stop? What the hell kind of answer is that?"

Neo wrote again, stopped and restarted twice before giving up in frustration. All she could think about was the girl's pained cry and how *pathetic* it was. She didn't feel bad for causing the injury, or the pain that came with it, or even the trouble she'd caused her team. She flinched when she felt Fox place a hand on her shoulder, which caused him to lift his hand away.

"Fox, don't coddle her. Even if it was an accident, Neo, you're still completely out of control. That's the sort of thing that gets partners killed." Neo's eyes narrowed and her frown deepend. "I'd hoped that whatever's been going on between you and Fox might temper your attitude, but it seems like it's only made things worse." Her eyes flew open and the bitterness at the back of her throat made her growl. The scroll slipped from her fingers and clattered on the floor.

She stalked to the door and reached for the handle. "Where do you think you're going? We're not done here!" Coco asked as she followed her. Fox was trying to protest, and Coco grasped her by the wrist. Neo locked her fingers around the girl's forearm, ducked under it and spun around behind Coco. She then launched up into the air, forcing her so-called team leader's arm up between her shoulder blades. At the apex of the leap, she planted her boots on either side of the trapped arm and jumped back into a blink as soon as the hold was broken. Neo landed in the hallway as the Adel girl bounced off the other side of the door. She heard Fox call her name, but she couldn't do this right now. She ran down the hall and out of the building while she formed a disguise. She had to get out of here before things got worse.

* * *

Neo had been walking for hours. She hadn't been able to find a pilot to take her into the city, but she'd seen them fly often enough. She left the bullhead at the transit station they landed at and slipped out into Vale. She had no idea where she was going, only that she needed to get away and think. At first she could only focus on her anger at Coco. Being a leader had gone to her head. Eventually her temper cooled to something more rational.

Coco was weak for not being able to control her team. Beacon offered them the opportunity to train themselves to be strong, but they seemed too willing to hamper themselves out of unwarranted concern for the safety of their students. How were they supposed to get stronger if they weren't allowed the risk of getting hurt? Pain was a great teacher, a lesson that Raven and her people had driven home more than once.

Hours passed as she continued through the city, not bothering to pay attention to her surroundings. She wrestled with the choices that she'd made, and wondered if they had been wrong after all. She even considered her budding ... whatever it was that she and Fox had. It had made her weak, too. She was wavering between wanting to go back and moving on to something else that would help her become a better fighter. Fox meant well, and she believed his sincerity, but he had also filled her with doubt. She didn't want to be a hero – she needed to be better, and those were not the same thing, not to her.

Her legs had carried her through the streets. She hadn't noticed that the sun had fallen low in the sky until she was broken from her troubled thoughts by a crash of shattering glass. Her head whipped around to identify the source of the sound. There was a man hanging from a third-story rooftop ledge. He wore black trousers and a white jacket, a bowler hat perched jauntily over long, orange hair. And he was laughing.

"Terribly sorry, but I need to take my leave! I'm sure you understand!" he shouted, and then he vaulted himself up onto the ledge and took off at a dead run. A dark-haired woman appeared at the window screaming bloody murder and she hollered curses after the thief, but he was already gone. The crime was so brazen that it shook her own problems were momentarily forgotten. Who was this man, and what had he stolen?

The nameless thief may have been agile, but he certainly wasn't stealthy. He hooted and whistled his way across the rooftops merrily. She wasn't sure why she followed him, but follow she did. She admired his audacity. Stealing in broad daylight and celebrating his victory was not how she had ever done those things, but she understood the exhilaration of it all.

He eventually led them into a seedier part of town populated by abandoned buildings and found his way into a dingy warehouse. She paused near a window and peered inside. There were crates stacked on shelves, and she couldn't see much of the interior. It was nighttime now; she knew she should get back to Beacon, but she didn't want to go right now. This bit of curiosity was far more appealing than having to return to endure more of Coco's heavy-handed 'leadership'. She tried a few windows and found none open, so she took a chance and blinked just inside.

The warehouse was dimly lit, and there were no sounds save for the occasional muffled vehicle passing outside and the drone of the nearby highway. She crept farther inside and found more shelves. The boxes were all shapes and sizes, but she didn't bother to look inside any of them. Eventually she found a staircase. After a few minutes of silently watching, she crept up the steps, which ended at a plain door. She placed her ear to the wood surface and listened carefully, but heard nothing. When she tried the handle, she found it unlocked.

The hinges were well oiled, thankfully, and a peek inside revealed a small room with a few tables, each heaped with various items. Scrolls, a few weapons, and baubles and shiny things, but there were also a variety of other random items. But the thief was nowhere in sight. He must be occupied elsewhere, so she edged into the room and closed the door. There was a window on the far side, as well as another pair of doors – if he should find her, she could make her escape, perhaps even grab some loot on the way out.

She stepped up to the nearest table and examined several of the items on it. It was easy to see that a lot of this stuff was junk, and so she sidled up to the next table. This one held a wide variety of scrolls, tablets and even a folding terminal. Some were cracked, while others could have been fresh out of the packaging. She shrugged after running a finger over a few of the devices and moved to the last table.

Here then were the prizes of the collection, it seemed. Gold and silver chains, loose gemstones, and dust crystals littered the surface. The thing that caught her eye, however, was a strand of shiny brown crystal beads strung together in a haphazard manner. It reminded her very much of the necklace Raven had worn, and occasionally beaten her with.

Neo was so transfixed by the strand that when the man spoke, she could only spin in shock, grabbing the nearest object as an impromptu weapon. "Ah, two-tone girl finally shows herself! And she has taste!" He had barely finished the sentence when she struck. He lazily blocked with a cane. "Who are you, little girl? Are you here to collect for Jīnsè?"

She whipped her weapon around trying to strike at his vulnerable points as she shifted for a better position to flee. "Oh no-no-no, we can't have that now! You just got here!" he crowed with a grin. He blocked all of her attacks and maneuvered to cut her off from the window she'd been edging toward. She backed away and held her weapon out in front of her – she then realized that she was fighting with a *parasol*. He chose not to pursue her, but looked quite capable of stopping her again if he wanted to.

"Honest, I've got the goods to pay Jīnsè back. I just need to convert it to cash first." Her face contorted. She had no idea who this Jeen-suh was, but he seemed to think that she worked for her. "You don't work for Goldie?" She shook her head. "Then what *do* you want?" She shrugged. "What's the matter with you, can't you talk?" He settled his cane on the hardwood floor and leaned on it. She rolled her eyes and looked back to the tables. "What's your name, kid?"

She didn't have her scroll, so she tried to sign her name. "I don't understand that finger-dancing, doll. You really can't talk?" She shook her head at his simple-mindedness and scratched her name into the floorboard with the parasol tip. "Neo, huh? Well, *Neo*, you've got some moves, but you're going to need more than that if you want to pilfer from another thief."

She shook her head, but then waved an open hand at the tables, giving him a questioning look. "What, why steal all this stuff?" Maybe he wasn't so simple after all; she circled her thumb and forefinger. "Well, I suppose I could tell you it's for a … tab I ran up. Honestly, though? Because it's fun, and because I can." She understood that as much as she had the cheer he'd shown on the way here. People were far too careless with their possessions often as not. It was exciting to steal, even if it was only for survival. She supposed that doing it for it's own sake wouldn't be any different.

"So if you're not here to collect, and you're not here to steal, what do you want? You gonna rat me out to the cops?" She snorted at that idea. Cops were for losers, especially in *this* town. "So why break in? Curiosity got the better of you?" He fished a cigar from inside his jacket and patted his pockets before finding a lighter. The burning tobacco made her nose wrinkle, but she shrugged in response to his question. He never took his eyes off her, but he occupied himself with the cigar for a moment or two. He seemed to be mulling something over.

"I gotta say, you're a bit of a puzzle, Neo. You're not after anything obvious, you're not some do-gooder, but you can fight a little bit." He paused to puff on his cigar again. "You looking for a job? I could use someone like you in my crew." She looked around, a frown of disbelief cast across her face. "Alright, you got me there, kid. That doesn't mean you can't be the first one to sign on. I'll give you a good cut of whatever we get after I pay Goldie off. Whattya say?" When she didn't respond, he shrugged. "Well, think it over. Ain't nobody gonna look out for you but you, am I right?" He stepped aside and sat against the table full of electronics.

She gave a firm nod. It seemed like he was willing to let her go unchallenged, but she was suspicious that it was a trick. She held up the parasol and pointed at it. "That old thing? Sure, kid, keep it. Give the handle the old twist and pull." She did so and was surprised to find a hidden blade concealed within. She liked it. A lot. It was thin and dainty, but no less deadly in the right hands. She snapped it back into the little umbrella and spared a glance at the string of beads before warily making her way to the door. The look he gave her was affable, but he smiled and winked at her as she warily moved past him.

* * *

"Well, Ms Neopolitan," Professor Ozpin began. "It seems we have a quandary before us." She stared at the table as he spoke. "On the one hand, you are a gifted young woman. It's been quite some time since anyone's managed to land a touch on me." She looked at him from beneath raised eyebrows. "But on the other hand, these incidents are troubling." She turned her gaze back down to the table in disappointment. She had come back to Beacon after being absent for a second and third evening, and it had been a difficult choice. She had arrived and found the professor waiting calmly at the dock, sipping from a coffee mug. There had been no scourging, or shouting, or any of that. A simple request to join her in his office for a 'little chat' was all he'd asked for.

"Glynda tells me that you show a great deal of promise as a combatant, but that it's marred by a seeming lack of control." When she gave no indication of replying to that remark, he continued. "We take in all kinds of students here, Neo. There are many reasons our students come to the school." He paused to take a sip of coffee. "It isn't always the best choice, and there is no shame if one were to leave." Worry creased her features, but she did not look up. "We are not in the habit of expelling students, except in the most extreme circumstances. I don't believe we've reached that moment just yet."

Neo couldn't manage to suppress her sigh of relief. That didn't mean that there weren't other problems waiting for her back at the dorm, though. Coco was sure to be furious, but Neo had just as much right to be upset with her. Fox was another issue altogether. She knew he cared for her, but she was also aware that he agreed with Coco, at least in part. She was brought back to the moment when Professor Ozpin slid her scroll across the table.

"I realize that this experience may be very different from what you're used to, but I hope you'll give things careful thought. You've been excused from classes for the remainder of the week. I suggest you take some time to reflect on your reasons for being here. We can only open the door, Neo. It is up to you to take the first step." Neo nodded and reached for her scroll, and froze when the Professor placed his hand lightly atop hers.

"And if you should decide Beacon isn't where you want to be, keep in mind, there is more than one path to becoming a Huntress." She looked into his eyes. They were kind, but they also held steel and promise. She turned her palm up to grasp his, and mouthed the words, 'Thank you.' He said nothing, but smiled encouragingly and turned her hand over to push it onto the scroll. She took it up, and left the office, determined to go straight to the dorm and wait for her team.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N – So the RWBYPrompts subreddit is finally up and running with mods (thank you team AJIS) and some planned events that we've been running for a few weeks now. The premise for this piece comes from a thing called the Cunning Challenge. The idea is to submit yourself for a specific challenge (or more than one, if the author is feeling ambitious) and others provide you with a topic to write for. This is my first attempt. Try not to hate me too much.**

 **JNR visit the neighborhood where Pyrrha grew up.**

Jaune glanced at his scroll for what seemed like the hundredth time. Mistral was a beautiful city, but it had proven to be a lot more complicated getting around than he'd imagined. Being a mountain city meant that there were a great many roads, tunnels and elevators. It was easy to see why Qrow had insisted they all install a specialty maplication – they would have become hopelessly lost without it. Ren and Nora were content to take in the sights, having never been to the city before. He had been here once as a small child, but all he remembered was riding on his father's shoulders in a sea of people.

The boulevard they found themselves on was middle-tier. It wasn't a wealthy part of town, but the homes were moderate and well-kept. They had to pass through a market to get to their destination, and it was a challenge to keep Nora from stopping at every stall and cart along the way. Jaune did relent when they passed a flower cart, and they all paused to select a bouquet of wildflowers. Ren paid the vendor with a quiet word of thanks.

It didn't take them long to find the Nikos residence. It was a slightly larger than the surrounding homes, and the door was a heavy, dark wood. A carved image of a spear slanted across a circle adorned the center of the entrance – the simpler form of Pyrrha's crest. A burgundy rope that ended in a tassel hung beside the jamb. Jaune gave it a tug, and they heard a muffled gong ring from somewhere within the household. A minute passed, and when no one came to answer, he pulled it again.

"Maybe nobody's at home right now," Nora said, clutching the flowers.

"Qrow did mention that the Nikos' are both accomplished Huntsmen in their own right," Ren reminded them. "It's possible that they, like most of the others, are out dealing with Grimm." Jaune bowed his head for a moment. Part of him was disappointed, but at the same time - to his shame - he was relieved. He didn't know much about Pyrrha's family – she hadn't really spoken of her family when they were at school. Now that he thought about it, he really knew nothing about them from her, which only served to deepen his guilt.

Jaune turned to face Ren and Nora. "Did she ever talk to you about her family?" Ren and Nora looked at each other. "She told me their names – Adamos and Adrasteia – but that's really all I know."

Nora fidgeted with a few flower stems. "I know she was close with her mother," she said. "And that first semester break she was excited to go home, but…" she trailed off with a sigh.

"She spent most of her time fulfilling her sponsorship obligations," Ren continued. "Mrs. Nikos was out on a mission until the day Pyrrha was due to return to Beacon. I think she got to spend some time with her father, though." He looked up at the second story and scanned the windows. "Should we try to-"

"They're not at home, youngsters!" A woman's voice interrupted Ren's question. They all turned to find an elderly woman dressed in a pale green haneri and kimono. She leaned forward on a reed cane and fixed them all with an unfriendly gaze. "And just as well, I say. What do you want with the likes of them?" They were all taken aback – Nora visibly recoiled, and Ren placed a hand on her shoulder.

"We're here to deliver some news," Jaune said numbly. He didn't know what to make of this old lady, but he certainly didn't feel welcome.

Nora, on the other hand, recovered from her shock. "Excuse me, ma'am, but what do you mean by 'the likes of them'?" Her tone had a barely perceptible edge to it. Ren's fingers tightened on her shoulder.

"Why, don't you know? I mean the Vacuo transplants who somehow managed to slither their way out of the lower levels, that's what." Ren sucked in a breath. Nora's eyes narrowed. Jaune's hands clenched into fists. "It's bad enough that they come up here with their 'neighborly' ideas. But it's no surprise they're too ashamed to show their faces, not after what that girl of theirs did!" The trio said nothing, and the elderly woman's shouts were drawing a small crowd of muttering onlookers.

"Guys," Jaune murmured, "I don't like this." He tried to gently push them back the way they came, but Nora wasn't having it. Ren moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with her.

"And just what is it you *think* Pyrrha did, old woman?" she fired back, anger ringing through.

A man from the edge of the crowd shouted back. "We all saw what she did – she tore that girl apart!"

"That was a robot!" someone else shouted.

The old lady half turned and raised her voice. "How are we to know that for certain? Even if it was, did the Nikos brat know that when she did it?" The handful of people grumbled darkly, and Jaune relaxed his hands. He didn't reach for the hilt of his sword, but this had devolved enough already. Nora dropped the flowers, which she had crushed without realizing it.

"You," Nora jabbed a finger at the woman, "you don't know anything. She was set up – we all were!"

"Oh, the poor, poor Pyrrha Nikos!" The old woman shouted and thumped her can against the ground. "Little missy who was too good to talk to any of us," there were more than thirty people standing around, murmuring in agreement. "Little Miss Perfect with her fancy training and her scandalous clothes, she was too busy chasing glory, she was tricked!" The oldster's tone was mocking and nasty. "She's even less welcome here-"

"She's! Dead!" Ren erupted, causing the street to fall silent. Even the sour grape of a woman was struck mute. "She died trying to defend Beacon Tower. You didn't know her like we did, and you certainly don't deserve to. Come on, we're wasting our time here."

When the mob didn't move, Jaune spoke. "Nora." No more needed to be said, and she pulled Maghnild from her back and extended it into the hammer. "Get out of our way," he grated. "One way or another, we are leaving." They began to disperse - some of them looking ashamed. Jaune got his friends moving and they started back to the shared house. He looked back at the Nikos home. The flowers had been crushed under the feet of the neighborhood's inhabitants. The old woman remained where she had stood, glaring at them all the while.

The three walked back in silence. Nora had grudgingly put away her weapon, and was fuming, her back stiff. Ren seemed relaxed despite his outburst, and moved with his usual catlike grace. Jaune was lost in dark thoughts of his own. They entered a tunnel and were halfway through when they heard pounding feet. "Hey! Wait up!" a tiny voice shouted. They all stopped and turned, not quite reaching for weapons. A little girl ran up to them - she couldn't have been more than nine years old. She skidded to a stop and huffed a few short breaths while trying to talk at the same time. "You .. guys .. are.."

"Hey, kid, take it easy - catch your breath," Jaune said. She was dark-haired, and had pale lilac eyes - they reminded Jaune of Yang's, even if the combination was a tad odd. The little girl also sported a strange belt, which he realized was in fact a thin, furry tail. After a minute or so, her chest stopped heaving and she was finally able to talk.

"You guys are Team Juniper, right?" She glanced at each of them in the dim light. "I saw you fight in the Vytal tournament."

"That's right," Ren replied. "What's your name?"

"I'm Melanie." She trailed off for a moment. "Is.. Is Pyrrha really dead?" Unshed tears glimmered in the corners of her eyes. Jaune's shoulders sank, and he knelt down on one knee.

"Yeah, Melanie, I'm sorry. Did you know her?"

The girl blinked rapidly, causing thin rivulets to run down her face. She looked at the ground between them and nodded, sniffling as she did so. "She used to watch me when I was little." And then she glared up at them again. "And I don't care what that mean old bag Missus Han says - Pyrrha was always nice to me, even after she got all famous and stuff!"

They all moved to the side to let other pedestrians by, and Melanie moved with them. "It's not fair," she said. "She promised to teach me how to be a huntress and help me get ready for combat school." Jaune shared a look with his teammates. Nora's eyes glittered, but there was a smile on her face. Ren appeared to be lost in thought.

"That sounds just like Pyrrha," Jaune said. "Did you know she was helping me, too?" Melanie scrubbed the back of her hand across her face and shook her head. "When are you supposed to start school?"

"Next year, why?" She looked up at Jaune, confused.

"I was Pyrrha's team leader. It only seems fair that we help you since she can't, don't you think?" Melanie's eyes flew wide. "What do you think, guys?"

"Yes!" Nora crowed with a fist pump.

Ren rubbed his chin in brief contemplation. "I think it's a fine idea. We should talk to Qrow about it, but I doubt he's going to argue against it. We have our own training, after all."

"Yeah, one more can't hurt, right Jaune?" Nora was practically bouncing at the thought, and he couldn't decide if it was because she was honestly excited, or just trying to lift the little girl's spirits. It was probably both, knowing her.

"You guys would really do that for her - for me?" Melanie asked, a hopeful look replacing her shock.

"Pyrrha made you a promise, and she can't keep it anymore. We'll keep it for her." Jaune reached over and patted her on the shoulder. "Have you got a scroll, or anything?" She knelt down and pulled a device out of her sock and held it up. "Alright, let's trade numbers."

* * *

Jaune's scroll buzzed, rousing him from an early nap. The day's training had been grueling – today had been sword work with Qrow. Jaune wasn't sure if it was the man's rotten semblance or just his lack of skill, but his body registered more aches and complaints whenever they sparred. He groaned and fumbled for his scroll, then brought it close to his face – there was a text from Melanie. She'd had a long day herself, left to the tender mercy of Oscar.

[Mel] – Jaune! Adra is home, but you'd better hurry! She's heading back out again really soon!

Jaune shot up to a sitting position and immediately regretted it as muscles and bruises protested. He tapped out a reply.

[Me) – Did you tell her anything? How long is she going to be home?

[Mel] – No, just you wanting to bring news. She's leaving tonight.

That was going to be a problem. Ren, Nora, and Ruby had all gone out with Qrow to do something, and Oscar had gone with them. The time on his scroll showed half past four. He couldn't remember if his friends had said when they'd be back, and after a moment of debate, he chose not to waste the opportunity. He would much rather not go by himself, but it could be days or even weeks before one of Pyrrha's parents came back – frankly they'd been lucky to have Melanie as a watcher.

[Me] – Okay, can you tell her I'm on my way?

[Mel] – Sure! Hurry!

He sat the rest of the way up and scooted to the edge of the couch, pain temporarily forgotten as he slipped on his shoes. He rose and rushed back to the room that he technically shared with Ren and Nora. He often didn't sleep there, offering them a measure of privacy, but he kept most of his possessions inside. He put on his armor and put Crocea Mors on his belt. Once that was done, he slung his travel pack over one shoulder and then jogged out of the house and down the street. He was halfway to the Nikos residence when he belatedly remembered to call Ren. When he didn't get an answer, he quickly tried Nora and Ruby.

"Hey!" Ruby's voice came over the speaker, but it was accompanied by the din of a large crowd. "We really can't hear anything in this mess – send me a text!"

"Okay, I'll do that!" Jaune shouted at the little device, which startled the other people around him.

"What?!" she shouted back. Jaune drew a deep breath to try repeating himself, but then looked around with a sheepish look and disconnected the call. He started moving again and sent Ruby a short message.

[Me] – Pyr's mom home, not there for long, going now.

He waited for a few seconds as he walked, and when there was no immediate reply, he jammed the scroll in his back pocket and picked up his pace. He had been out a few times now, and was more comfortable navigating Mistral's many paths. He certainly knew the way back to Pyrrha's neighborhood because they'd all gone there a few times now: Mae, Melanie's older cousin (who was her only family) had insisted on getting to know the people her 'Little Catbug' was spending so much time with.

The neighborhood market wasn't exactly teeming with people by the time he got there. Most vendors were closing up shop or packing away their carts for the day, though a few residents remained for some last-minute shopping. He briefly considered stopping to get some flowers, as Nora had done, and decided against it.

A few minutes later, he found himself standing in front of the Nikos residence. Now that he was here, he felt a wave of nausea. He was about to destroy this woman's world, and while he knew she needed to know, his guilt made his hand freeze at the gong-pull. Would she be angry and blame him? That was a very real possibility, and she was an experience Huntress. He was debating what to say when the door opened.

"Oh, hello!" the woman said. Jaune was paralyzed in a panic as he took in her features. Adrasteia Nikos was a short woman, though the raised step she stood upon brought them to nearly equal height. It was immediately clear to Jaune that Pyrrha had taken after her mother's looks. Her flame-red hair was pulled back, and her eyes were the same deep green. She was dressed in a plain ochre, sleeveless longcoat, and wore a red linen shirt with puffy sleeves beneath it. An empty wicker basket was held in the crook of one arm. "You must be Jaune Arc," she said when he didn't immediately reply.

He shook his head quickly, trying to throw off his daze. "That's right. Hello, Mrs. Nikos." Now that he had a moment, he could see that there were subtle differences between her and Pyrrha. For one thing, her features were narrower, and her skin was darker than her daughter's had been.

The palm of her hand turned outward, causing the basket to rustle against her coat. "Please, call me Adra. Won't you come in?" she asked, stepping back and pulling the door wider.

"Thank you," he replied, and then looked to her empty basket. "I didn't mean to interrupt… If there was somewhere you needed to go…" he trailed off, relieved that he had something mundane to talk about.

She nodded her head. "I _do_ need to get to Marta's, but please, come in and make yourself at home." Jaune fidgeted with the strap of his pack nervously. She sensed his hesitation and released the door handle, placing it on his shoulder. "Please, Jaune, come inside. Pyrrha has told me so much about you and her other friends – I shan't be long." He relaxed and allowed himself to be pulled across the threshold of Pyrrha's childhood home.

As soon as he set foot inside, his nose picked up the smell of incense burning; Jasmine, he thought. Adra led him through a short hallway, the walls of which held photographs of the Nikos family. The hall let out into a modest living room, which was furnished with a few comfortable looking chairs. They were arrayed around a coffee table, and sat in front of a fireplace, which was currently not lit. He allowed himself to be guided to one of said comfy chairs. He had the presence of mind to take off his sword and lean it against the coffee table before sitting down, but he let the pack slide into his lap.

"I will be back shortly. We can talk then." Her tone was serious, but when he looked up at her, she had a polite smile for him. He inclined his head mutely, still uncertain what to say. She patted him on the shoulder and turned to leave. The door opened and closed quietly, and Jaune was left alone with his thoughts. He spent a few minutes racking his brain for a way to break the news, and finally gave up.

He turned his attention to the room he found himself in. The mantel shield and the leg pillars of the fireplace were carved wood, decorated with woodland images and stained dark. The shelf held more photos, and the wall behind it held four ornate plates. They had nine edges, and were emblazoned with the seal of Mistral. Jaune realized that they must be Pyrrha's trophies from the Mistral Regional Tournament.

He got up to take a closer look at the picture, tossing his pack on the chair as he went. Many of them were of Pyrrha and her family at different ages. They proceeded in chronological order, starting with what must have been her first picture. Her parents were hugged close together, with a little red bundle cradled in Adra's arms. Her father was a tall man. He sported a thin beard, and his coloring was a deep mahogany. His eyes were a piercing blue, and they were both smiling down at a sleeping baby Pyrrha.

Jaune smiled bitterly, and took his time looking at each of the photos, sad that he could only see these little glimpses of her childhood. They carried on to the more familiar face and armor that he remembered. Several of them were of her training, or in combat with others, but the last one made a lump form in his throat. It was the four of them - a photo that Yang had taken shortly before their first semester had ended. Nora had climbed on Ren's back, and after some cajoling from Yang, Pyrrha had done the same with Jane. They had all been laughing at some joke Weiss had made about the boys being 'prize' stallions.

He turned away before the tide of emotions broke loose from inside his chest. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists hard enough to make his knuckles pop. "Get it together, Jaune. You can't fall apart right now," he told himself aloud. He took a deep breath and held it for a moment. The burning incense helped calm his roiling thoughts and he exhaled slowly. He repeated the exercise once more, letting the tension loosen from his shoulders and arms. A third breath let him slacken his fingers, and he opened his eyes. He scrubbed the sleeve of his hoodie across wet cheeks and swiped a gloved hand across his eyes before going back to sit in the chair he'd left behind.

A few minutes later, the door opened again, and Adra called into the house, "I'm back!" She came into the living room and Jaune stood to face her. The basket held a few packages and some fruits, and she smiled at him. "Would you like to stay for dinner? I hadn't planned to cook, but we seldom have company , and Pyrrha would never forgive me if I didn't offer a little Nikos hospitality."

"I… Don't you have to leave soon?" he asked. Her apparent lack of concern at his news - much less where her daughter was – confused him a lot. Did she already know? No, how could she?

"It's really no trouble, but if you can't stay…" she started hesitantly. Had she not actually spoken to Melanie? The little girl was bright, but Jaune didn't think she could keep from telling her friend's mother the bad news.

He tried to speak, and his voice betrayed him. A second attempt went no better than the first. Finally, he didn't know what else to do, so he opened his pack and reached inside. His hand came out with Miló. The spear head had been replaced; Ruby had bargained with the same smith that had forged his armor and modified Crocea Mors, and had done the repairs herself. She never said what she had traded, and frankly he hadn't cared. He'd wanted to bring back Akoúo̱ as well, but nobody had been able to find it in the chaos after the Fall.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so, so sorry," he repeated. He couldn't look at her, and his eyes welled with tears. "It's my fault. I wasn't good enough, or fast enough. I wasn't even there when it happened." He started babbling and crying with shame and grief that he'd kept bottled up. He vaguely heard the basket crash to the floor, and a blurry orange rolled past his feet. Light steps rushed over to him, and he found himself wrapped in Adra's arms. It was as close as he would ever get to feeling Pyrrha's embrace ever again.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N - Hey guys - long time, no see! I thought maybe it was time to catch you up on what I've been writing lately. This piece was from our Writing Prompt Wednesday Free-For-All event. The idea is that since we have this massive list of prompts, twice a year we open it up to let everyone write whatever they want from the list. This prompt was provided by a fella named Iamnotparanoid:** **Your favorite character stars with your least favorite character in a buddy cop comedy.** **I hope you like!**

Penny followed Captain Goodwitch from the squad room. The pace she set suggested that the sooner she was rid of her new detective, the happier she would be. "Your partner is currently at a crime scene, Ms. Polendina. He was in a foul mood this morning, so I suggest you speak seldom and pay attention."

She kept pace with the tall, brusque woman. "Of course, Captain, I understand. What's the case we'll be working about?" Crime in a city the size of Vale was inevitable, but she was excited for the opportunity to bring those responsible to justice. The captain took a Slate from the crook of her elbow and passed it back to her after tapping a few points on the screen. Penny linked with it as soon as her fingers clasped the surface, and then she downloaded the pertinent case files.

"We've had a rash of robberies. Several Dust dispensaries have been cleaned out of all merchandise. Strangely, cash and other valuables have been left virtually untouched." Penny reviewed the previous crime scenes, but could discern no pattern to them. "The perpetrators have been at it for months. This is the first time they've killed someone, however."

The whole thing seemed bizarre to Penny, and not just because she wasn't always the best at interpreting human behavior. Dust was an unregulated energy commodity. There wasn't any point in having a black market, or even a gray market for it. Theoretically, enough theft could cause rates to rise, and insurance payouts to buckle the system. These robberies weren't enough to accomplish that, though.

They arrived at the entrance to the motor pool, and Captain Goodwitch turned to face her directly. "I trust that you will keep your status to yourself." Penny opened her mouth to point out the obvious, but the blonde raised her finger and tilted her head. "Miss Rose is the sole exception to this, simply because it couldn't be helped. I am less than pleased that you've been foisted upon my department, but Commissioner Ozpin's orders were _quite_ clear. I expect you to keep your mouth shut about what you are - is that understood?"

Penny did her best to hide her disappointment. "Yes, ma'am," she replied. As first impressions went, Penny couldn't figure out where she'd gone wrong. Perhaps Ruby could give her some insight later.

"Call me sir, Miss Polendina." She hooked a thumb at the door. "Get going, and pay attention when you get there."

Penny threw a crisp salute. "Yes, sir!" and pushed through the door before the situation deteriorated any further.

* * *

The drive to the scene took less than half an hour, and Penny had used the time to go over the details of the case again. Their prime suspect, Roman Torchwick, had a long list of criminal activity attributed to his name. He originally hailed from Mistral, and had dozens of charges ranging from burglary to assault and battery. Eyewitness accounts placed him at nearly all the previous robberies, and attributed a not inconsiderable amount of combat skill.

The perplexing thing was that before he gained his notoriety in Mistral, there was no other information about him. He wasn't a registered Hunter, and he had no military background. The current theory was that his identity was assumed. Penny spent the remaining few minutes setting up a face recognition query and let it run in the low-tier processing before moving on to known associates.

By the time she arrived, uniformed officers had cordoned off the area around the store. She parked a short distance away and gathered the Slate and coffee thermos. When she got to the tape, one of the uniformed officers spotted her badge and lifted the bit of plastic up. He turned and called to the store front, which read 'From Dust Til Dawn'. "Hey, Sarge, you got company!" he said, and then turned back to her. "He's inside, go on in. Mind the broken glass, ma'am."

"Thank you, officer," she replied as she ducked under the tape and went inside. The glass she had been warned about was strewn around the dark carpet. It appeared to have come from the display case. The glass and carpet were stained with dried blood, and her gaze was drawn to three men and a woman. They were crouched or standing around a form covered in a white sheet, which was also stained in places. One of the men held the sheet up, while the woman took photographs. The other two men were speaking quietly. One wore a dark jacket with the letters M. E. printed on the back. The other wore an immaculate white suit.

Penny raised her free hand and cleared her throat into it. The two men stopped their discussion and turned to look in her direction. The medical examiner frowned until he saw her badge. He muttered something to his neighbor, who snorted and waved the man off. He walked to stand in front of her, continuing to stare with piercing, cornflower blue eyes. His hair, eyebrows, and bushy moustache were all a pale white.

He continued to say nothing, so Penny assumed he expected her to speak first. She held out her hand. "Good morning, sir. I'm-"

"Tell me that's coffee you have there, rookie."

Penny was taken aback momentarily, but without missing a beat, replied, "That's coffee you have there, rookie." She held out the thermos.

He leaned in slightly and squinted at her. "Smartass, huh?" he asked. He took the still-warm jug of caffeinated beverage, but didn't open it. "This isn't that swill they pawn off on us at the precinct house, is it?"

Penny shook her head. "No, sir - I ground and brewed it myself." She was going to leave it at that, but then her optics glitched briefly. "And statistically speaking, it's better to have a smartass partner than a dumbass one." Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes grew wide. Where had _that_ come from? Her new partner, who still hadn't introduced himself, merely raised an eyebrow. After a moment, just as Penny was sure she'd ruined her first impression, he snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You're going to fit right in, Polendina. Detective-Sergeant Jacques Schnee."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N - Hey all! Here is the other entry from the Writing Prompt Wednesday Free-For-All. This prompt, unfortunately, wasn't voted in. The nice thing about FFA is that we can use discard prompts as well. Now, I won't spoil it for you, so we'll just dive right in. ;)**

 _Seventy-Five Years Ago..._

Nicholas Arc surveyed the newly-broken ground and construction of what would become Shade Acedemy. There had been a number of problems to overcome - even with the relative safety of the Oasis, the desert was reluctant to give up so easily. The shaft for the vault had been particularly troublesome. After a third collapse, the Vacuo Council had requested his assistance. Beacon's own construction was coming along well enough, and so he had obliged. It was necessary if the relics were to be protected from Salem.

He was reviewing the plans for the vault itself when an unkempt, harried looking man burst into the tent. "Majesty! I'm so glad you're here! We've just discovered the most amazing find!" He paused to catch his breath and then realized with whom he was speaking, and he sketched a bow. "Apologies, Majesty..."

Nicholas smiled and shook his head. Sooner or later people would get used to the way things were now, or at least he hoped they would. "Calm yourself, Wallace. No more of this 'Majesty' business, old friend: The time of kings is over." He touched the man's shoulder, gently pressing him to stand up straight and look him in the eye. Old habits died hard, but they still had to die some time.

"Of course, Maj-... Headmaster," he said, though he bent his neck for a moment. His face grew thoughtful, lost in some idea, or perhaps a memory. So much had been lost in the Great War. Nicholas found it to be a common problem, even years later.

"You said you found something, Wallace?" he prompted.

He brightened and half-turned to the tent's entrance. "Oh! Yes, yes, we found something exciting - come and see!" He waited only long enough to see that Nicholas followed, and he rushed out. The former king chuckled and shook his head again as he followed Wallace, who was excitedly describing several objects that they had found buried in the sands. They made their way past men and women who toiled in the blazing heat. Some called out to him and he gave them friendly waves and words of encouragement. He paused briefly to make sure young Anise remembered to drink her water.

Eventually the came to the an area where the last of the sand was being hauled away to make room for the foundation stones. There was a bustle of activity, urgent shouts and the clank of tools lending the air a sense of urgency. A long table held a variety of objects. Smooth stones with carved designs sat alongside pottery and tablets engraved with strange characters, which intrigued Nicholas. A language that he was unfamiliar with - one so old that it predated his curse, and the knowledge that came with it.

At the end of the table of artifacts, a large pedestal. It was a squat thing, with an angled disk on top. The center held a large, partially sunken red orb. Symbols were inscribed on panels, situated radially around the orb. The symbols, too, were unfamiliar to him. "He reached out his senses, but could discern nothing magical or otherwise unusual, save that the material of its construction was unlike anything that he had ever encountered. It made him nervous; not knowing of something like this was rare indeed.

He looked up at Wallace, who was feverishly chattering away about deciphering the language when shouts rose from the dig site. They both turned to see what all the commotion was, where people began to crowd in together. They moved to join the press of people, who parted upon seeing the pair. When they came to the center of the commotion, Nicholas was shocked to find a _very_ large ring, easily twenty-five feet across.

The inset portion held more symbols at regular intervals, and the outer edges were accented with more red crystals, which were in turn held by triangular-shaped brackets that pointed inward. "My Gods, look at that!" Wallace exclaimed. "I wonder what it could be?" He knelt down to place a hand on the metal surface.

"The symbols, they match the ones on the pedestal," Nicholas mused. A creeping suspicion sent a slow frisson up his spine. "I think... Perhaps we should send this to the vault at Beacon. I have a feeling that this thing could be dangerous."

Wallace pulled his hand away and looked up at the Headmaster. "Do you really think so?" Nicholas nodded. He had no way of knowing for certain, but he had learned to trust his instincts long ago. Wallace's face fell incrementally. "Don't worry, my friend, I said we should secure it, not lock it away and forget about it."

Wallace, relieved, stood and brushed his hands against his knees. "Of course, Headmaster. I'll make the arrangements immediately." Nicholas nodded absently, and stared at the ring for a while longer.

 **Post Note! If you haven't guessed, TokyoFoxtrot gave us this little gem:** **In** **the deserts of Vacuo, archaeologists uncover a strange, large ring device during a routine dig...  
**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N - Just a little quickie, courtesy of Writing Prompt Wednesday. This prompt, Jacques Schnee finds himself being hunted by Grimm in an abandoned factory near Atlas's border. He is rescued by a huntress/huntsman who hates him. Enjoy!**

"Go, sir! I'll cover you!" A pistol was shoved into Jacques Schnee's hand and he was roughly turned and pushed. His legs carried him away as the last man from his private security leveled his rifle and opened fire. Howls and snarls filled the air, drowning out his panicked gasps for air. He stumbled around a bulky separator machine, and cursed when his hand slipped across the dusty surface. The bunker was at the other end of the processing floor, and he could barely remember that much - he hadn't been here since before Winter had been born.

Gun blasts echoed thunderously, drowning out shouted curses as Jacques pelted up a ramp. He might not remember the bodyguard's name, but he was now very glad of the man's insistence that he change his footwear. His very expensive saddle shoes would never have allowed him to skid across the grimy floor has he swung around the rusted railing and sprinted onto the row between the gutted stabilizer conveyors.

Jacques was halfway there when a panicked scream tore loose from behind him, and the gunfire stopped. Then, a deafening explosion rocked the building, accompanied by a flash of light bright enough to cast a shadow in front of him. He barely had time to notice it before he was thrown to the ground. His grip on the pistol slipped, and the gun went clattering away into the darkness.

He lay there for a moment as the stars faded from his eyes, though the ringing in his ears persisted. He scrambled up to hands and knees, and then settled into a crouch. He craned his neck slowly, but could only see flickering shadows playing across the broken machinery; fires from the bomb the security guard had detonated. He stood, cautiously and edged forward, hoping that his bodyguard's sacrifice bought him the time he needed.

Jacques crept forward, scanning the floor for the lost handgun as he went. He had gone fifteen meters when he spied it wedged between the gap of a raised machine and the floor. He shuffled toward it and knelt down to retrieve the weapon, looking left and then right as he did so. The fires had died down, so the only light came from the moon, filtered by dirty windows. He was about to check the Dust capacitor charge on the gun when he felt, more than heard, the machine in front of him shudder.

He eased his head upward and saw a large Beowulf clinging to the side of the machine, head down. He gasped and fell back, but he swung his arm up and pulled the trigger as many times as he could. The weapon coughed and bucked, causing all but one of his shots to go wide. The one that hit caused the beast to cringe slightly, it's claws dug furrows into the metal with shrieks of protest. It shook as it snarled, then heaved itself at him with a howl. Jacques pulled the trigger and it clicked, empty.

A curious thought crossed his mind as his doom rushed toward him; he wondered what Whitley would say if he could see his father now. That was all he had time for before the Grimm landed on top of him. He was flung onto his back, which bounced his head off the concrete. There was a flash of green, and then the blackness of nothing.

* * *

When Jacques came to, he was still lying on the hard stone floor. He sat up and immediately regretted it, his head throbbed. He reached up to gingerly probe the back of his head, which had a sizable lump. Touching it made him wince, but nothing seemed to be broken.

"Excellent," A young woman's voice said, "you're awake." His eyes snapped open and darted toward the place it had come from. Green lines of light outlined her shape, and he scrambled away in fear. A beam of moonlight illuminated her as she walked forward; a red-haired young woman with glowing, red eyes. "I was beginning to think you would sleep the night away."

"N-no, please!" he stammered. She laughed cruelly and dashed forward. Several swords flew up from behind her and shot toward him. They slammed into the ground around him, effectively trapping him, while two more snaked forward to cross against his throat.

She slid to a stop in front of him and crouched down to lock her eyes with his. "Come now, is that any way to greet me, *father*?" He gasped and tried to back farther away, only to be held fast by the cage of blades. "Yes," she hissed. "The General was kind enough to let me read the file. It was most... illuminating."

He began to shake with terror. "I... I only did what... I didn't mean for-" his head rocked to the side and crashed into the hilt of a sword. He was too stunned to do more than whimper. He grunted as she pinched the corner of his mouth between vice-like fingers and dragged his face to look at her again. Her eyes no longer glowed with light, but held naked hatred.

"You are going to pay for what you did to me, to my mother, and to Atlas, Now get up." The blades pressed into his neck painfully, and he had no choice but to stand clumsily. Metal sang and concrete clattered as the swords seemingly ripped themselves from the ground and encircled him tightly. She stood and turned to go back the way they had come, and the swords moved with her.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked.

They walked several paces before she looked back at him with a wicked grin. "The General has something very special planned for you." The ring of swords began to tighten and pierce flesh, causing him to cry out. "His orders did not specify what condition you were to arrive in beyond alive. You will speak no more, or I will test the limits of those orders." A jab to his spine emphasized her point. He hung his head in defeat and followed his captor out into the night.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N - The muse finally struck for another Writing Prompt Wednesday - This week's prompt was: 'Kali asks how Yang got her robotic arm... Feels ensue and anger at Adam...'** **I took some liberties** **, and by feels I mean _feels._ You've been warned. **

Yang shot up to a sitting position with a gasp. Her shoulders heaved under labored breath, and her heart was trying to hammer its way out of her chest. She closed her eyes and ground her teeth as she clenched the fingers of her hand around her blanket. Would she never be rid of the rotten bastard?

Weiss lifted her head drowsily from the pillow beside her. "Yang?" she murmured. "Whassamatter?" It was so strange to hear half-awake Weiss after being out of the dorms for so long, but it helped to ease the tension in Yang's neck.

"It's nothing, just a bad dream," she whispered. "Go back to sleep." She lay back down and even managed to smile when Weiss mumbled and rolled over to spoon up against her. Weiss buried her face in Yang's shoulder and sighed contentedly. She was asleep within minutes, and she began gently snoring. Yang stared up at the darkened ceiling and let the sounds and little puffs of breath wash a sense of calm over her.

Yang listened to the matching pair of quiet snores coming from Ruby and Blake on the other side of the room. She closed her eyes, and was immediately greeted by the image of a wicked grin and a bloody blade. Damn him. She turned her head in an effort to banish the remnants of the dream, but there he remained, a shade of many nights past.

She cracked an eye and rolled it to gaze on her sleeping companion. It had been a surprise when Weiss had pulled her aside. Never in a million years would she have guessed; Weiss Schnee had more than just missed her, but she had taken a while to work up the nerve. It was all very new to Yang, but no one else had been shocked, except maybe Ruby. She lay there and tried to immerse herself in the moment, to let the feeling banish the last vestiges of the nightmare. It almost worked, until Weiss brushed her fingers up against what was left of her other arm.

Damn that boy. Even his ghost was determined to ruin everything.

Yang carefully tried to disentangle from Weiss, who grumbled in protest and tried to pull her back. Yang's heart broke a little, but she needed to get up and move around. She placated her slumbering friend – girlfriend, she reminded herself – by pressing her lips softly onto her cheek. "Back soon," she breathed. She eased slender fingers from their loose grip and slid from beneath the covers slowly enough not to disturb the girl.

Once Yang was up, she tucked the blankets in behind herself, and Weiss curled into a contented, pale ball of perfection, and Yang held her breath for several heartbeats. She marveled at the sight and wanted to burn it into her mind's eye.

Weiss had always had a certain cold beauty to her – not that Yang envied it. There was something about how peaceful she looked as she lay there that made it more heartwarming. The fact that Adam was coming between them made it all the more frustrating. They would need to talk, but she couldn't bring herself to disturb her slumber just now. Someone should get some sleep, at least.

She turned to face the arm that lay on the bedside table and debated. She had promised to let Ruby look at it more closely over the next few days. Qrow was busy making arrangements to smuggle them into Atlas, which was taking longer than he had anticipated. That was another reason she and Weiss needed to talk. The former heiress hadn't voiced any concerns, but any time her homeland came up, hers was the look of someone facing the gallows.

Yang finally decided that a partial charge was good enough for now, and picked up the prosthesis. She padded on silent feet to the door and let herself out. She locked the arm to its receptacle and gave it a turn, clenching the fist a couple of times. Once she was satisfied that it was in order, she snagged her boots from beside the door and crept down the hall.

A glance at the clock showed well past midnight, and she shook her head. Bad dreams weren't a nightly occurrence, but they happened too often. She paused at the top landing long enough to tug on her footwear before going downstairs. A walk would do her some good, even if it was just pacing on the training terrace.

There were quiet voices talking in the living room. The voices belonged to Blake's mom and dad – Kali and Ghira – as well as Qrow and Oscar, though if the boy was up this late, that meant it was most likely Ozpin. They were all gathered around a makeshift desk covered with papers and maps. Between news of Professor Lionheart's betrayal and so many of the city's Huntsmen missing or dead, there had been a lot of chaos. They were trying to help the council put a plan in motion to address that, as well as what to do about the White Fang. It was all horribly complicated, and Yang had opted to stay out of the way.

Qrow looked up from the group's efforts when she stepped off the last step. "Hey, Firecracker. Can't sleep?" Professor Ozpin – Oscar – and Ghira started to rise, and Kali tilted her head.

Yang turned her head to the side, feeling awkward for interrupting their work. "Yeah, sorry - Don't get up on my account, guys. I just need a bit of fresh air, that's all."

Ghira, no longer focused on the task before them, stood up anyway. "Gentlemen, I had not realized that the hour had grown so late. Perhaps we should follow everyone else's example." Yang hid a grimace behind a smile.

"Yes, I suppose we did press on too late. We can work out the particulars with the Council in the morning," Professor Ozpin conceded. "I bid you all a good night. Miss Xiao Long," he nodded at her, and then there was a flash of green. Oscar let out a deep sigh and laid his head down on a pile of papers. The rest all shuffled off to different parts of the house, bidding her a good night as they passed. Yang took a moment to drape a throw blanket from the couch over Oscar's shoulders, and then she went outside.

The night air was cool against her skin, and despite her earlier desire to walk around, she stopped at the balustrade to look out over the city. Now that she was alone with her thoughts, it was hard to know what to process first. They had all been through so much in the last few days, and there weren't enough answers to go around. She hadn't realized that Adam had been outside the academy until after everything had been more or less resolved.

The fact that he had escaped didn't do anything to ease Yang's subconscious mind. He was out there somewhere, along with Cinder's people. Whatever they'd had planned, it had gone bad for them. Part of her wished that she could have been there to face him, but the rest of her was glad that she'd had other things to worry about. She knew that she needed to face him again.

She was also aware that things between her and Blake were never going to be quite the same. Forgiveness wasn't the problem; understanding and patience weren't her strong suit, but she was trying. They hadn't talked about that night at Beacon, and that seemed like the place to start. Neither of them had been willing to bring it up, so far.

Her meandering thoughts were brought to a halt when she heard the house door click behind her. She looked over her shoulder expecting to see her uncle, but was surprised to find Kali approaching instead. She held a steaming teacup in each hand, and slowed to a stop. "Hello, Yang. I hope I'm not being too presumptuous," she trailed off uncertainly.

Yang invited her with a wave of her hand. "No problem, Mrs. Belladonna. I could use the company."

Kali flashed a smile and moved to stand beside her, offering one of the cups when she did. "I find a bit of herbal helps me sleep after a long day."

Yang took it with her mechanical fingers and bobbed her head. "Thank you, it's worth a try." She took a sip and was delighted to find that it didn't taste like roots. Tea had never been her thing – give her a strawberry sunrise any night. She detected mint and clover, and a few other things that she didn't recognize, but it wasn't awful.

They enjoyed a companionable silence for a few minutes, which Yang was more than fine with. She hadn't spent much time around Kali Belladonna, but overall she liked the woman. She was likely the source of Blake's practical nature, but at the same time, she carried herself with a calm, gentle confidence that Yang found refreshing – and if she were being completely honest with herself, somewhat attractive. She shook her head at that thought, but smiled in spite of herself.

"So, Yang, do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

She looked over at her companion reluctantly. "Talk about what?" Playing dumb wasn't her usual M.O., but she was a little uncomfortable with the idea of talking about Blake with her own mother. It felt a little bit like cheating.

Kali sipped before answering. "Whatever it is that's driven you from Miss Schnee's arms, of course."

"You don't approve?" she deflected.

"Not at all, Yang. Weiss is a fine young woman, and not at all like some of her relatives." She paused, as if considering her next words carefully. "I ask what troubles you out of concern. Things between you and Blake still seem a little… strained?" Yang frowned. So people _had_ noticed. "Maybe that isn't the right word, but I would have thought you two would be happier to be reunited."

Yang stared down at the scattered lights of the city for a time, not sure where to begin. Kali didn't press further, content to wait or let it go. "How much did Blake tell you about the night Beacon fell?" she asked.

"Hmm," Kali intoned around her teacup. "Only that you were both hurt, and that Adam had led his faction in the attack." She waited a moment before venturing further. "I assume that's when you lost your arm?"

"I was stupid," she said bitterly. "I rushed in like an idiot. He – Adam – was standing over her, and he stabbed her. I…" Her breathing quickened, and for a moment the panic set in. It was Beacon all over again. Kali set her drink on the rail, and then she reached over to rub a hand across Yang's back, while lightly turning her to face the woman.

Yang allowed herself to be pulled, but hung her head in shame. "You're talking about Blake." It wasn't a question, at least not one that she could look Kali in the eye to answer. Her breath shuddered as she nodded jerkily, and she couldn't help the tears that slid from her eyes. She found herself enveloped in the arms of the woman who had every right to be upset with her.

She didn't deserve it, and she stood ramrod stiff, trying to hold back the tide. "Thank you, Yang. I had no - _Thank you._ "

Yang wasn't prepared for this. She completely broke down, and Kali's embrace grew fierce and warm. She clung to her like no one since Summer had gone, and she wept in great racking sobs. The shame and regret leached out of her. A hand lifted free from her back to stroke her hair, and calming hushes susurrated against her temple. And how sad was that? This woman, practically a stranger was being more of a mother to her than Raven ever had been.

After an eon of grief had passed, Yang felt herself being guided to a sitting position, her back leaned against Kali, who kept her arms wrapped protectively around Yang's shoulders. When she had been reduced to sniffles and deep breaths, a kerchief was plucked from a sleeve and offered, which she took.

"That boy," Kali began. "I knew he was trouble almost from the day we met him." Yang looked down at her robotic hand and clenched it.

"I have nightmares," she offered hesitantly. "They come and go, now, but they never get any easier."

"You know, I think I might have just the thing you need, Yang." She turned to look back into those eyes, which were crinkled with silent laughter. "Let me tell you about the first day that I met a young Adam 'Bullshit' Taurus."

Yang's jaw dropped open for half a second, and then she giggled. "Oh, no, they didn't!"

Kali tilted her head down and her eyes twinkled sardonically. "Oh yes, Yang, _yes they did_."

Yang had never laughed so hard in her life.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N - What's this? Another WPW entry so soon? Well! That's because Penny bonds with another robot from a fictional AU. And we all know how much I love best girl Penny. :)**

 **The Last Remnant**

* * *

Captain's Log, Stardate 45416.2

 _The Enterprise has arrived at the Pelennor System in the Black Cluster to begin a two week survey of the system's sole planet. Initial teams have encountered ruins of an ancient civilization, however the indigenous creatures have proven to be somewhat hostile. I have added security personnel to the away missions, which seems to have been sufficient for the time being._

 _Of particular interest is a crystalline substance, which seems to display a wide variety of effects (see report E4259, Cmdr LaForge). The society that once lived on Pelennor I appears to have been pre-warp, and the ultimate cause of their demise is uncertain._

 _One final note, Cmdr. LaForge has made an intriguing discovery, an android of some sort. He has requested permission to bring it aboard, along with samples of the crystalline material. I have chosen to grant his request, and await the results of his research. Despite the machine's great age, we may perhaps learn more of the peoples' fate._

* * *

At first, there was only darkness. Penny tried to look around, but found that in addition to being unable to see, she could not move. She could, however, hear.

"Geordi, the android's systems – to be – online, howev—not stable"

'Hello?' she tried to say. Who was this 'Geordi'? Where was Mr. Ironwood? Strange… _Who_ was this Mr. Ironwood? She knew it was important, but she was having difficulty accessing her primary storage.

"Let's try br—ing the power—onlin—" she felt a tingling, and then her arm – she had an arm? Someone had found her and was trying to bring her back online! She still couldn't see, but she could feel her limb twitch in response. "Wait a second, _there_ we go. How does it look now, Data?" She tried to speak again, but no words would come. She could feel her systems start to come back online, but it was very slow.

"The power system seems to be stabilizing. I will attempt to bring her primary logic system back online." There were a series of beeps and warbles, and her eyes opened. She found herself staring up at a beige-colored ceiling. She tried to sit up, but found that she still could not move, and when she tried to speak, her jaw moved, but no words came out. "Ah, it – she is awake."

A very pale man with dark, slicked back hair leaned into view. "Greetings," he said. She tried to reply with 'Salutations', but found that she still had no voice. "Ah, yes, one moment. I will attempt to repair your vocal circuits. Please try not to move."

He reached for something, and a higher pitched warble emitted from something he held while he held up another object that beeped and chittered. His pale yellow eyes were intent on whatever it was he was holding, while his other hand passed some kind of device over her throat. He would occasionally move slender fingers over the handheld device, which made corresponding beeps. Whatever he was doing made her eyes twitch and flutter, but she was otherwise able to do as he had asked.

After a minute and twenty seconds, he placed the stubby cylinder into the end of the little box and flipped the lower half up. "I believe I have corrected the instability. Can you talk now?"

"Salutations," she said with a smile, which faltered when she heard her voice. It didn't sound right, and she engaged a diagnostic. The subroutine found a set of partially corroded circuitry that was only partially functional, and it would need to be replaced. "Where am I?"

The man leaned in three inches closer and said, "You are on board the Federation Starship Enterprise. My name is Data." Another man came into her periphery, and she looked at him. He was dark-skinned, and wore a strange object over his eyes. Both men wore gold and black long-sleeved shirts.

"Hello," she said to the new man. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Are you Geordi?"

"That's right," he replied with a grin. "Can you tell us your name?"

She paused to search her memory and found very large gaps of fragmented data. After a moment of searching, she replied, "My name is Penny. I would shake your hand, but I'm not able to move."

He nodded at that with a wry twist of his lips. "Yeah, when we found you, you were heavily damaged and in pieces. For whatever reason, the alloy of your endoskeleton resisted our efforts to repair it." He looked up at the pale man.

"Since we were unsuccessful in our initial attempts to put you back together, entire pieces had to be replaced with a facsimile comprised of molybdenum-cobalt alloy."

"Goodness! That sounds complicated. I hope it wasn't too much trouble, Data." She tried to understand what he was saying. The part about her internal skeleton made sense, but she had no knowledge of the metal he described."

Geordi pressed a few buttons on the wall to her left and came back over. "It's no trouble, Penny. We had to stop, though, once we realized your power core was reaching critical levels." She couldn't quite see what he was doing, but she could feel a slight, brief vibration. The table she lay on angled upward. "I'm going to unlock the cervical vertebrae so you can look around, but we need to keep the rest of you immobilized for now."

There was a quiet clunk behind her head, and she was able to look around as the room rose into view. The walls were adorned with a variety of cheerfully colored displays, all sweeping lines and little blocks. One screen held a large representation of what must be her bones, which looked a little silly. Another series of images were displayed next to it, and they were different aspects of her: circuits, wiring, even the cabling that served as her muscles.

The window in the room, however, was the most startling sight. There were stars, and she could just see a wide band of blues and greens arcing across the bottom edge. There was a kind of glow to it, and it made her gasp. "What is that?" she asked excitedly. "It's beautiful!"

Data turned his head to follow her gaze for a moment before turning his attention back to her. "That is the planet on which we found you." Penny's eyes grew wide. "We're in a high, geosynchronous orbit above Pelennor One."

"Oh! We're in space? Your ship flies in space?" She wasn't sure why that surprised her, but it did. Then she looked down at herself. A wide band of metal laid across her chest and arms, which she deduced was what kept her from sliding down the table. "Oh my," she said in dismay. The reason they had strapped her down was because everything below her torso lay completely separate from the rest of her body.

"Ah, yes," Data said. "As Geordi stated we had to interrupt our reconstruction efforts in order to preserve what little remaining power you had." Several cables were laid over the edge of the table where they disappeared from sight. "I apologize for not having completed the work, but your power requirements were very precise; it took time to determine the correct frequency and voltage."

"And now that we've taken care of that, we can get back to-" Geordi began, but was interrupted by a disembodied voice.

"Riker to LaForge."

He reached up and tapped a pointed badge on his chest. "LaForge here."

"Geordi, we're having some problems with the sensor array at the remote observation post that could use your expertise."

Geordi nodded and said, "On my way, sir." He reached across the table and handed a pad of some kind to his companion. "I shouldn't be gone long, Data. If you need a hand, I can have Sorensen join you?"

Data shook his head as he accepted the device. "I believe I can manage while you are gone, Geordi. Thank you." He turned to go.

"It was nice to meet you, Geordi LaForge," Penny said with a smile. "Thank you for helping put me back together."

He grinned back at her and patted her on the shoulder. "It was nice to meet you too, Penny. You're in good hands with Data. In fact, I'll bet he'll have you sorted out before I even get back." He gave her a final nod and disappeared behind her. She heard a hiss, followed by another two seconds later, and then he was gone.

Data had pulled her legs and hips closer to the rest of her body and began reconnecting wiring. His movements were fast and precise – too much so, it seemed to her. "Are you an artificial person, too?" she asked.

Data looked at her with his brows furrowed as he considered the question, and then they went up. "Hm! I have never thought of it like that, but that _is_ an apt description." He face held a thoughtful look for a moment, and then he bent back to his work. "The proper term is android."

"Android," she said slowly, savoring the foreign word. "Hmmm. It's shorter, but I like artificial person better for some reason."

Her fellow android tilted his head this way, and then the other way. "I suppose it does hold an essence of poetry." He worked for several minutes in silence, and he referred to the small device that he had flipped open and laid on her left thigh. "I believe I have completed reconnecting the servos for this leg." He tapped a few buttons and suddenly the sensors began reporting information to her. Unfortunately, the flood of data also caused it to twitch and kick rather violently.

Data clamped a firm hand down on her knee to keep it from striking him, and then applied a slow effort to push it back onto the table. While he restrained her leg, he tapped more keys without looking, and the offending appendage flopped back onto the table with a hollow thud. While he had done that, Penny had reviewed the sensor log.

"You appear to have crosslinked the twenty third and twenty-second nodes by mistake. If you show me the schematic, I can point them out for you." These people were being kind enough to put her back together – the least she could do was help them with it. He produced an electronic pad and called up the appropriate diagram and pointed to each node until she could identify the problem area.

They talked while he continued Penny's repairs – or rather she asked questions, and Data patiently answered them all. She learned about the United Federation of Planets, and that her world was just one of countless _thousands_ in the galaxy – a word she had no concept of until Data had explained it to her. The idea of alien races didn't bother her at all.

After all, Remnant had the Faunus, and…

Her train of thought came to a screeching halt. Her senses were flooded with information, to the point that it overwhelmed her vision. When she recovered, she found herself leaning against the window. The planet below was blue and green, but there were many large patches of ugly black and red. She couldn't remember why, but she had a sinking feeling that it couldn't be a good thing.

Data came to stand beside her. "Penny, is something wrong?"

She shook her head back and forth, as if it might shake loose her missing memories. "I don't know. I can't seem to remember anything after leaving Atlas Academy with Mister Ironwood. Even that is spotty at best. It's as if there are huge pieces missing."

'Yes, your storage scheme is a mix of solid state and volatile memory in a multi-tiered structure. Some were damaged, while others have degraded. Your core system," he indicated by holding a hand up to her head, "was surprisingly stable, especially given how long it was exposed to the elements. Perhaps you should come back to the table."

Penny stared at the planet below forlornly. "How long? Was there anything there with m-?" She turned away from the window and faced Data. His shirt was torn, and there was a deep gash that exposed blinking lights. "Oh, no! You are damaged!"

After everything he had done for her, too! She looked over at the table she'd left behind. The band that had held her up in place was broken and bent at a wicked angle. Sparks shot out of the side of the table, which trailed ripped cabling that led to her, and ended somewhere inside the cavity above her hip. "I'm so sorry, Data. You must be terribly upset with me…"

Data looked down at the injury and inspected it as best he could. Her bottom lip quivered when he looked back up at her, face impassive. "I am incapable of anger, Penny, or any emotion for that matter. The damage is minimal – easily repaired."

Penny clasped her hands over her chest. "Are you sure? I feel terrible…"

Data looked surprised at her statement. "You are able to feel emotions?" She nodded. "Intriguing." He studied her, but was interrupted by that same hissing sound. A man and a woman entered the room swiftly, holding small, oblong objects in their hands.

"Sir, is everything alright in here?" the woman asked cautiously.

Data waved a hand, and they lowered their weapons. "Everything is fine, crewman. There was a minor mishap, but the moment has passed. You may return to your stations."

The woman took in the state of the room, noting the jagged edge of the armature with narrowed eyes. "Aye, sir." The pair reversed direction and left.

"Perhaps it would be wise to return to the workstation, Penny. Your power cells are not fully recharged yet. It would be unfortunate if you were to remain disconnected for the time being." She made a small noise of assent and reached down to take up the loose cable as she walked back to the table with him. He removed the pieces of the broken arm from the table and set them aside.

Data spent a few minutes replacing the torn cables with new ones, and he got her plugged in to the ship's power system again. He resumed work, and for a while Penny was reluctant to ask more questions. He reached a stopping point thirty eight minutes later. "I must attend my duty station soon. Please remain here and allow your power cells to fully recharge. If you need anything, the security officers will be right outside the door."

He turned to go, and Penny stretched a hand out to grab his shoulder. "Data, wait." He stopped and faced her again. "How long was I… down there like that? Do you know?"

He took a breath, and then tilted his head. "Are you certain you wish to know, Penny? You may not like the answer."

"I… I think I need to know. How long?"

Data inclined his head. "The decay rate on your power system was constant. Assuming a full charge when you went offline, it has been eight hundred forty seven years, four months, two days." Her jaw opened in shock, but she nodded jerkily and let go of him. "I shall return soon," he said. He took a few steps, and then came back, though she hardly noticed. He opened a blue cylinder that was laid on its side and took out a small, shiny object. He returned to the table and held it out to her. "You were found only with this."

She took the bit of metal from him and stared at it. "Thank you, Data," she murmured. If she had barely noticed his brief return, she completely missed his exit. The object was flat and silver, engraved in the image of a flowering rose. She stared at it for a very long time, and the longer she looked, the sadder she became, but she didn't know why.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N - Hey there! So I know it's been a while since I posted something, but I've got a little something special cooked up by Writing Prompt Wednesday from a few weeks back. The prompt is '** A Grimm has wandered the world, seeking a worthy end after 10,000 years of life.' **Now, I sort of had a plan when I started this, but then it turned into something else, so it follows the spirit of the prompt more than the letter. I suppose it could technically happen a-la to-be-continued, but I thought four parts was enough for now (I've only been working on this thing three weeks. My poor two fans of this have been dying for me to wrap it up or make it a full-blown fic.) Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for stopping by! :)**

* * *

 **It Crawls**

We have wandered far. Moving between small clusters of bright lights, we feast. We do not remember when we could remember, but we did. We were. The lights never seemed to satisfy, but we had need long before we knew what it meant to need.

 _It crawls_

There were Others. They too had need. Some Obey, and so too did we, for a time. When we were first able to remember, it was a whisper, a shadow of a shadow. It had a different Need, but not the same as we. The whisper became a voice. The voice changed again and again, but the Need drove us.

 _It crawls_

The lights were many, but so were we. Hunt, feast, It was ceaseless. Sometimes the lights would give slivers. Fear. Death. Mother. Words. It was the slivers that we consumed. We could remember. The words would be forgotten, but the slivers would remain, an echo of what would come.

 _It crawls._

Eventually, memory would stay. Fear. Death. Mother. The voice drove us. We were slaves to that will. That Need. It filled us even as the lights sputtered. The Voice, it did not know of the slivers. And so we would feast.

 _It crawls._

The memory began as a small thing. Drifting on the edge of claw's tip, fangs snapping. It crawls, but the lights bite and sting and [run]. It is no matter, we feast. The slivers form words. We remember.

 _It crawls._

"I don't understand. What's it doing?!"

The words are strange. We have consumed them, but we have never spoken them.

"Is.. Is it trying to talk?"

 _'We crawl.'_ That is not right.

"That's crazy, Yang! Grimm can't talk!"

 _'We feast.'_ That is true, but still not right.

"Look at it, Ruby. It's not trying to kill us. It's just sitting there making noises."

 _'We... Motherrr..._ ' The Voice left us long ago. The lights and slivers have grown. Hunt. Feast. Perhaps. Perhaps not. _'Mother..._ '

"There it is again! I'm telling you guys, it said 'Mother'!"

 _It crawls._

"This is ridiculous. Grimm. Can't. Talk. Nowhere in recorded history has anyone ever found one that _talks._ "

We wait. We can crawl, or we can see. We can do both, but the stings will come. _'Motherrr...'_

"I don't get it. Does it think you're it's mom? This is freaking me out!"

* * *

 _ **Several hours later...**_

 _ **'We find you lights strange... Why do you shine, Motherrr?'**_  
 _We can hear the lights whisper among themselves. We can clearly hear them, but we have been told it is [rude] to eavesdrop. We remain [quiet]. We do not crawl._

"Do you mean our [souls]? Is that what you're trying to ask?" _The [Yellow] One asks. We have [learned] new slivers. We [wish] to feast, but we are not ready. It sounds [right]. We [claw] the ground but once. The early [agree] or not works best to [trade] for more slivers. We should take, but we would get few. Now we get many. We do not crawl._

"We don't really know. We just have them. How long have you been able to talk?" _The White One says. They are [cautious], but they have Need. They call it [curiosity]. Is this why we do not feast? Do we have [curiosity]?_

 _ **'Many passings of the Pale Shards, Motherrr.'**_ _The lights look at each Other in [confusion]. We raise our [beak] and clack it upward._ _**'It comes and goes. We would hunt it when there were no Other lights to feast on, but we never took it, Motherrr.'**_ _Such a light it has._

 _They turn to look at the pale shards._ "It means the [moon], you guys!" _The Red One_ _[shouts]. The slivers are many. How are there so many of them? We Need, but we do not crawl. They do not sting, so we do not crawl. But we [want] to. The Red One turns back to us._ "How many [moons] have you seen?"

 _The lights speak of a sliver called [time]. We do not know [time], but we know the pale shards. We wait, we [think]._ "It _really_ creeps me out when it does that. Is it actually thinking about your question?" _The Black One speaks little. We taste its [fear]. Were it alone, we would crawl, stings or no._

 _ **'Many passings, Motherrr. As many as there are green [trees] around us.'**_ _Their [eyes] grow. There are many,_ many _[trees]._

"Wow... That's.. a lot. How many [trees] are there even in this [forest]?" The Yellow One asks. "No, no way! How is that even possible? This thing is [thousands] of [years] old?" _The Yellow One is clever. We do not crawl._

"It makes [sense. Professor Oobleck] told me once that some of the oldest Grimm can [learn]. Why should this be any [different]? _The Red One says._ "I really wish [Oscar] and [Qrow] were here. They'll _never_ [believe] us."

* * *

 _The pale shards have fallen. We do not crawl, even when some of the lights [sleep]. The Black One watches us, but does not speak to us. Her fear is small now. We wait. We are patient. The Need to crawl is less, so many slivers have been traded. We think. The_ _lights_ _[humans] are patient, and we trade. We did not understand some of the slivers, but they try to explain._

 _The Red One stirs but does not wake. We taste regret. The Others do not have this._ _**Black One, what [troubles] Motherrr?**_

"Huh?" _It looks at the Red one._ "Ruby? She's having a [nightmare] - a bad [dream]." _We cock our head to the side to show we do not understand._ "When [people] sleep, our minds wander [imaginary] places. It's like this place, only not real. Most dreams are [good], but some are bad."

 _ **Why do [people] do this, Black One?**_

"It's not something we can control. It just happens." _We do not understand._ "She's been having bad [dreams] for a while. She doesn't like to talk about them." _The Black One moves to sit beside the_ _Red One. We watch as the Black One [strokes] the Red One's head._ "I suppose since you don't [sleep], this doesn't make [sense]."

 _ **We do not [sleep], Black One. There is no Need.**_

"Blake," _she says. We cock our head._ "If you're going to keep [calling] me something, call me by my [name]. It's Blake. Two days; you'd [think] we'd have done that first. Do you have a [name], old monster?"

 _ **Blake One-**_

"Blake."

 _ **Blake.**_ _We think. We look at the Red One._ _**Rrruby.**_ _We look at the Yellow One._

"Yang." _She points to the White One across the fire._ "Weiss."

 _ **Lights have slivers called names.**_ _We understand._

"Yes. Do you have a name?"

 _ **We do not have a name. There is no Need. You call us 'old monster' Is that a name, Blake?**_

 _Her eyes gleam._ "Of a sort, but it isn't a [proper] name."

 _ **It will do.**_ _Ruby quiets, and so does Blake. We do not crawl._

* * *

 _Blake has gone to sleep. We have traded many slivers. The [stars] glide above, ever silent. Weiss watches now, but she does not trade slivers. She does not speak at all. We heard her whisper to Blake. She does not trust us. Weiss is wise, but we do not crawl._

 _A youngling howls, but far from here. We Push it away, back to its Pack. It scampers. Weiss looks to the cry._ _**It will not come, Weiss.**_ _She [frowns] at us. We taste her mistrust. Weiss is wise. We do not crawl._

"What makes you say that?" _she asks. It is the first thing she has said to us in [hours]._

 _ **We send it away. Young Grimm do not know the slivers, only the lights.**_ _She considers as she adds [fuel] to the fire._

"Suppose I believe you. How is such a thing even possible?"

 _We think about her question. We have never considered before._ _**We all hear a whisper when we are young. It commands, we obey.**_

 _Weiss [gasps]._ "You're talking about [ _ **Salem**_ ]! _We hiss and mantle. The whisper has a name now. We hate the whisper. Weiss grips her slender talon and steels herself. We settle._

 _ **Do not speak It's name.**_ _Weiss calms, but is wary. Weiss is wise._ _**We have learned to ignore the voice. But we can whisper now. The young are weak, easy to command.**_

"I don't understand, how are you able to _do_ this? How are you able to talk?"

 _ **We consume the lights. We learn the slivers.**_ _We taste her anger. She brings it to heel, but we taste it all the same._

"You mean to say that you've killed _people._ " _We cock our head. We understand her [meaning], but we do not understand her anger._ "How many people had to die so we could sit here and talk?"

 _ **We do not know. Many.**_

"And what happens if we let you go? Will you kill more people?"

 _We consider._ _**Perhaps. Perhaps not. We do not crawl, now. You trade slivers with us.**_ _Her mouth falls open, but no words come._ _**We do not Need as we once did. We can roam for many, many [moons] with no Feast.**_

"Then why do it at all?" _She is standing now. Her anger is heady._

 _ **We are what we are, Weiss-**_

"Stop calling me that!" _The others are awake now._

"What's going on?!" _Ruby shouts. Yang and Blake have risen, claws ready. We do not crawl, but we may have no choice. Weiss hisses words to Ruby. Ruby listens, her long claw wary._

"Weiss, he doesn't know any better.-"

"[Bull- _shit_ ] 'he' doesn't! _It_ knows damn well what it's doing now!"

"Look, you said he just admitted he doesn't need to do that anymore. If we kill him now, this will all have been for nothing!" _Weiss says nothing. Ruby turns to look at us and points her empty hand at us._ "How many more like you - as old as you - are there?"

 _ **Few. We have roamed far.**_

"And could they learn to talk?" _We consider. Most still do as they are bid._

 _ **Perhaps. Perhaps not.**_ _The lights gather and talk softly. We can still hear them, but we do not listen. We think. We do not crawl. Weiss is angry with us for Feasting. We do not understand._

"Look, I think there's a simple answer to this," _Yang says. She comes to stand in front of us. We could crawl, but we do not._ "Why are you doing this, talking to us?" _We consider._

 _ **Feasting would give us few slivers. You have traded many. We are curious. We learn.**_

"And what if we couldn't? Say more of you came to stop us."

 _ **We would send them away-**_

"Suppose you couldn't send them away, what then?"

 _We snort._ _**There would Need to be**_ **_many_** _**for that to happen.**_

"Alright, [Mister] Full-of-yourself. [Pretend] every last one of you in the world came here to stop us from talking. How would you _feel_ about that?" _We consider. We think about this night. We are more than we were._

 _ **We do not Need...**_ _We look at the ground. Yang grasps our beak and forces us to look at her. We grow_ **very** _still._

"Hey, eyes up here, [pal]. You started this. Answer the question."

 _ **We would not like it.**_


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N - Hello, friends! I know it's been a little while since I've been back here. Moles and trolls, all I do is work, work, work (or at least that's how it feels). I _have_ been writing, I promise. For those of you still following along with Fang and Thorn, or Penny and Rime, I hope to have new chapters for you soon. In the meantime, a labor of love from WPW 100, a special event to commemorate the centennial episode of Writing Prompt Wednesday: "Write a sequel to a previous WPW entry." If you need a refresher, head on back to chapter 21, but before you read, I should warn you: There are some very unhappy moments within, but if you have the strength of will to push through, I think it will be worth it. I don't know if I will continue this, but perhaps - no promises! Enjoy, and thanks for stopping by! =]**

To Boldly Go

* * *

 **Stardate 45424.7**

Penny was very nervous as she followed Data through the corridors of Deck Thirty-Six. The source of her anxiety lay not in this strange and impressive ship. Once Data and Geordi were both satisfied that her systems were stable, Data had taken the time to give her a tour of the ship when he was off-duty. This deck was very familiar to her.

Main Engineering was a busy place; it was always filled with people going about their duties. The murmur of voices complemented by the pulsating thrum of the warp core, and every member of the crew had been incredibly kind – some had even taken the time to get to know her, and she them.

In spite of her worry, she still could not help but marvel at the Enterprise. It was a massive, technological wonder, and she was amazed at the level of its sophistication. Even more surprising was that there were over a thousand people on board – and not just people, but children; whole families lived and worked and went to school in space. Space. Penny was in _space._

As they approached the turbolift, her sense of trepidation grew stronger. She had been aboard the ship for three days, and now it was time to meet her captain. Her discomfort must have been obvious to Data. "Truly, Penny, there is no need to be afraid," he reassured her. "The captain is a fair man. He simply wants to get to know you and ask you some questions."

"I know, Data. I just don't know what answers I can give." Meeting the captain wasn't what was bothering her. "I'm sure he's a kind man, but what will become of me afterward?" She had come to understand that these people had little care for money or possessions. That didn't mean they weren't hoping for something in return. While her repairs had been efficient, they had still expended considerable resources in doing so.

"I see. You are worried about what will happen to you when it is time for us to depart." She looked up at him and nodded. He considered her with those yellow eyes, and the hum of the lift ebbed quietly in the background. She knew that there was nothing waiting for her on the planet below but the creatures of Grimm, that and ruins. "Androids are treated the same as humans or any other sentient beings are within the Federation. We have the same rights and privileges as any other individuals. You will have the freedom to choose what happens to you."

"Was that not always the case, Data?" She was pleased to hear this, but his tone suggested that it hadn't always been so.

He tilted his head to the side. "Several years ago, I was to be compulsorily disassembled for study, in the hopes that my design could be replicated," he said simply.

"That's terrible!" Her hands rose to ball up in front of her chest. "What happened?" Obviously he was still here, but she couldn't imagine being forced to have such a thing done to her.

"Captain Picard successfully argued for my status as a sentient being. Furthermore, he was able to do so as a legal precedent." He said it dispassionately, but Penny couldn't help but feel relief at his revelation. Certainly her creators had treated her as a person, but they were gone now. "Because of this, you will be able to decide your own fate."

"But what could that be? Where would I go?" She stared down at the carpet. "What would I do? Everything I knew is gone." It was impossible to keep the edge of despair from her voice. What she could remember of her life had been filled with structure, purpose. Now that Remnant had no more people, it no longer existed in any meaningful way. Her fingers brushed the silver medallion clipped to her hip.

The hum began to wind down. "I am certain we can help you determine your next steps, Penny – if that is what you wish. We have not restored you only to abandon you. It is not our way." He gave her a gentle, if awkward pat on the shoulder, and she tilted her face up to give him a relieved smile. The lift slid to a halt and the doors hissed open. As they stepped out onto the bridge, Penny paused. She had never been to this part of the ship, but was impressed at the sleek design, which was laid out in a circular shape. The crew looked up at their entrance, one or two even smiled at her, though their attention quickly returned to their assigned stations.

Data gently pulled at her elbow and guided her a few meters down the ramp to a closed door, the captain's ready room, and pressed a key on the console next to it. "Come," she heard, and the door hissed open.

* * *

 **Stardate 45425.3**

Penny stared at the screen in consternation. It was filled with questions, many of which she was unable to answer. After her talk with Captain Picard, she had felt a little better about her prospects. He had offered several suggestions, but as Data had promised, he didn't press any one of them upon her. Most would require her to apply for citizenship in the Federation, a decision that should not be undertaken lightly. Instead, he had arranged these quarters so she could take time to make up her own mind.

The Enterprise would remain in orbit for several more days while the away teams completed construction of a field observatory. Starfleet would be sending a proper research team from a place called Deep Space Three soon. The captain had offered to let her remain behind and prepare for their arrival, if that was what she wanted. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to endure being alone for that long, though she appreciated the gesture.

The rooms were much more spacious than the science lab, and she was grateful to be allowed to remain on board. Data had explained that this deck normally housed visiting dignitaries and other important guests. At first she had shied away from the idea, but he had assured her that there were many more such as these. Furthermore, he had pointed out that, as the sole surviving member of the world below, she could be considered an ambassador of Remnant.

The sentiment had given her pause. She might very well be, but without anyone to represent, it was a hollow thing. Data had meant well, but she had accepted the rooms with a solemn demeanor.

She got up and wandered over to the couch by the viewport, pausing to stare out at the stars as they drifted by. The cabin was located on the starboard side of the ship, which did not afford her a view of Remnant. Perhaps that was for the best.

She caught her fingers as they stroked the bit of metal on her hip, and pulled it loose to examine it once again. She was certain it hadn't belonged to her, but if not, then whose had it been? She curled into the couch, tucked her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around them. No matter how hard she tried, all she could feel was a profound sense of loss. Nearly all of her choices led forward, away from the only home she'd ever known: It felt very, very wrong, no matter how logical it might be.

Penny knew that no good could come from feeling sorry for herself, but the reality of her situation had finally started to sink in. Her people were gone. Her father, Mister Ironwood, her friends – surely she'd had at least one or two, hadn't she? Her last clear recollection was being told that she was going to Vale to participate in the Vytal Tournament. If she had been able to cry, she might have; instead all she could do was to hug her legs tighter.

She sat that way for quite some time, alternately trying to remember the missing pieces of her life and wondering what would be the best way forward. Her wrangling was interrupted by a chirping tone. At first she failed to recognize what it was, until it sounded again. "Come in," she said. The doors hissed open and a woman entered.

"Hello, Penny," she said with a friendly smile. "My name is Deanna Troi. I came by to see how you were settling in." She was dressed in a plum-colored jumpsuit, and wore her long, curly black hair held back in a loose ponytail.

Penny did her best to smile and rose to cross the space between them. She offered her hand, which the slightly smaller woman clasped with her own. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Deanna. Won't you come in?" She waved her free hand at the nearby chairs. As they moved to sit, she pushed aside the sorrow as best she could. "I'm still getting used to all of this, but I'm glad of the distraction. I notice that you don't dress like most of the crew - what is it that you do aboard the Enterprise?"

"You're quite perceptive, Penny," she tilted her head in acknowledgement. "I have the rank of Lieutenant Commander, but I serve as the ship's counselor." She leaned in and her tone grew conspiratorial. "If I'm being honest, I find that wearing the uniform does less to put people at ease."

"That makes sense, I suppose," she replied. "Does this mean you're here to counsel me?"

The look Deanna gave her was a serious one, but her tone was friendly. "I can, if you have a need. The captain felt that you might benefit from a visit, but I would have come even without being asked to. Is something troubling you, Penny?"

At first, she was reluctant to say anything. Her shoulders slumped a little, and she turned her gaze to the floor. Without looking up, she said, "I was built for combat, you know. My purpose was to help my people fight the Creatures of Grimm." When Deanna said nothing, she continued. "I can clearly recall the time before… everything fell apart. It would seem that I failed, somehow." She held up the rose emblem. "Data tells me that this was all that was found with me. I don't recognize it, exactly, but I _do_ know it wasn't mine – I'm sure of that much."

"But you aren't able to remember who it might have belonged to?" she heard compassion in the woman's voice, but was unable to look at her.

She shook her head slowly. "It's almost as if the knowledge is right there, like a distant cry or a half-remembered smile…" Something about the silver tickled at the edges of her senses, and she closed her fingers around it in frustration. She looked up at Deanna. "The captain told me some of the things I might do now, but I don't know if I can make a decision. I need answers, and I'm afraid I won't find them here. I don't know what to do."

If her words sounded forlorn, they were having an effect on the counselor. The look on her face was somewhere between surprise and concern. "You _are_ afraid, aren't you? And I sense terrible loneliness as well." She took Penny's hands in her own. "I'm certain everyone is doing their very best, Penny. Is there anything we can do that might help you?"

This time her smile was less forced, if still a little uncertain. These people were so kind and thoughtful, but she almost felt as if she were abusing that goodwill. "I think… I think I need to go back to where I was found, or maybe back to Atlas Academy – or whatever might be left of it. Would that be possible?"

"Sometimes the only way to go forward is to retrace your steps." Deanna squeezed her hands gently. "I'll speak with the captain and see what we can do." She seemed to consider something for a moment, and then nodded, as if making up her mind. She stood, pulling Penny up with her. "Tell me, Penny, do you like chocolate?"

"I… don't know," she said with hesitation. She couldn't remember ever having tried any before. She knew _of_ it, which was strange. As her train of thought grappled with that unusual fact, it was interrupted by the counselor.

"Well, let's go to Ten-Forward and find out." Deanna flashed another smile and slid her hand into Penny's. "If not, at least it won't be quite so lonely."

* * *

 **Stardate 45429.9**

Penny joined Data, Lieutenant Worf, and Commander Riker on the transporter pad. Of all the amazing things she had seen or heard about, this was the most spectacular of them all. She was excited, and yet nervous at the same time. The thought of being converted into pure energy and beamed to another location and then put back together beggared belief.

"And you're sure this is safe?" she asked to no one in particular. Data had explained the mechanics of it, but it still sounded intimidating.

Chief O'Brien gave her a reassuring nod. "Transporter technology's been in use for more'n two centuries, Miss. Twenty odd years of doin' this, I've not lost one soul." He sounded supremely confident, but without any offense. His accent was a pleasant, roguish brogue that she found she liked very much.

Commander Riker turned his head to give her a big grin. "Of course, there are accidents, even with all the redundant systems, but they're rare. In the last decade or so, I think there might have been two or three." He craned his head further around. "Data?"

"Yes sir," he replied. "The failure rate over that period of time is approximately eighteen hundred-thousandths of a percent. Furthermore, each of those incidents were attributed to stellar or planetary phenomena that are not present here." He paused for a moment as if to say more, but Riker shook his head.

"I'm sure Mr. Data can go into more detail later." He winked at her. "Are you ready?"

She couldn't really argue with any of that. "Yes, Commander, I believe so." More questions would only delay them unnecessarily. If the risk was so small, it would be best to just get it over with.

Riker looked to Chief O'Brien and said, "Energize." A light sprung up around her, but she didn't feel a thing as everything went white. She hadn't expected to be aware during the transport, but she found herself looking into a bright void of whiteness. Two seconds later, it was replaced with a bleak landscape. The plain was red, and dotted with rocky formations of the same color. "See, Miss Polendina? Nothing to it." She nodded absently as she took in the surroundings. He let her look for a few moments, and then got her attention by raising his hand into her field of view. "Come on, the site is this way," he finished with a gesture of his head.

They turned as a group to move in the opposite direction. She wasn't prepared for the structure that rose up out of the ground. A massive jut of rock thrust up from the ground, but she could see where a building had once stood upon it. The lower levels had been carved from the rock itself, and the walls rose several stories up from there. There was no mistaking it, with gaping, darkened windows that seemed to stare at them in accusation. They were trespassers here, and unwelcome.

They moved forward at a brisk pace, unbothered by the heaviness in the air. The path to the entrance was a rough-hewn stairway. She pushed aside a sense of dread that seemed to cloak the place in unwelcome shadows. "This is where you found me?" She noted that they all seemed perfectly at ease, though she didn't miss how Worf's hand hovered near his weapon. Their teams had encountered the Grimm, and she had read the reports – to help provide insight into the beasts as best as she could.

"That's right, Riker replied. "The structure is largely intact, very little damage. There's not much in the way of light, though." He pointed at the portable lamp they had provided her with as he and the others reached for their own. Data had taken out a scanning device, and held it up as they walked through the open doorway. She took out the little device and turned it on.

As they entered, she could tell that this first room was rather large. It stretched back for several dozen meters, where she could make out a split-level staircase. The central part led down, while the flanking sides swept upward. The sides of the hall had large stone pillars every few feet, and they held up a balcony that ran around the perimeter of the room.

"Does any of this look familiar to you, Penny?" Data had apparently been satisfied with whatever his scanner had shown him, and had traded it for a lamp of his own. She looked around the cavernous room and considered. The only thing she felt was a slight sense of anxiety, but not because she remembered being here. She shook her head slowly. He made no reply, but instead aimed his light at the flight of stairs that led down.

As they descended, the sound of wind seemed to vanish. The silence was unsettling to her, but she made no comment as they went further down. The first landing they came to was perhaps ten meters long, and it was here that they encountered one of the advance away teams, security officers sent ahead to secure the area.

They halted for a moment. "Report," Worf ordered tersely.

The woman she had first encountered when she had been awakened stepped forward. "All quiet, Lietuenant. Silent as the grave," she added somewhat nervously. Penny wondered if she had run into the Grimm on another away mission. They continued downward, nearly a hundred stairs, with two more landings and security teams stationed at each.

Just when she thought that the staircase was bottomless, they arrived at a third landing, which ended at a large pair of stone doors that had been propped open. These were carved with sinuous lines that formed a sort of tribal depiction of Grimm, whose eyes were set with some sort of red gems. If Penny had been ill at ease before, she was downright uncomfortable now. She pushed harder – they had come all this way, and she needed to see it through.

The chamber that they entered was laid out in a large circle with more pillars that stretched up into darkness. The floor was carved in more of the sinister lines, which all focused on a large stone chair in the center of the room. She froze in her tracks as she spotted a glint of light that reflected on the far side, partly obscured by the imposing … throne – she could think of no other word. A glimmer of red reflected back from the shadows.

"Something you see, Penny?" She barely registered the question as coming from the Commander. She took a slow step, and then another. "Miss Polendina?" She didn't hear whatever might have come after as her faltering steps became larger strides, but somehow heavier with each one.

By the time she drew even with the chair, she was actively struggling to move forward. There was a noise from behind her – she thought it sounded like raised voices. "I'm fine," she murmured. "I.. just need.." The glint of light resolved into a long, thin shape, and as she got closer, it seemed to be embedded in the wall somehow. She reached out and grasped it. As soon as her fingers closed around the handle, she heard a young woman cry out. She sank to the ground, still firmly gripping the handle. Her eyes followed the shaft up to where it met the wall. A large, curved blade was buried halfway into the rock. _'Penny!'_

And she knew.

That voice, she would recognize it anywhere. Her vision blurred, and she felt tightness in her throat. The room began to shake. A single word formed in her mind, one that could not - _would_ not be ignored.

"Ruby," she whispered.

* * *

 **547 Years Ago...  
**  
"I don't trust her," Jaune growled. "After everything she's done, how can we?" He crossed his arms as he half-faced the rest of their group. They were standing on the edge of the Anima Badlands, arrayed in a semicircle. A dozen yards away, the woman known as Emerald Sustrai hovered a few feet off the ground, legs crossed in a sitting position. Penny kept a wary eye on her, as Jaune did. She could not miss the glow that surrounded her.

"I don't see how we have any choice," Ruby said wearily. "We threw everything we had at her and she brushed it off like it was nothing." Penny spared a glance for her friend, who wasn't quite sagging against Crescent Rose. She was breathing slowly, and it was clear – to Penny, at least – that her heart was racing. "She could still take us out, and we wouldn't be able to stop her – she's got three maidens' worth of power." Ruby glowered right back at Jaune. A rift had formed between them after Oscar had died, though neither would speak of it. "And she's willing to talk. When did her girlfriend ever bother to do that?"

Jaune didn't move a muscle, but his face grew stormy. "We side with her, we're walking into a trap, you do kno-"

"Atlas is _gone!_ Beacon is gone. Mistral's barely holding on, and who knows what's happened to Shade." Ruby was shaking. "She has the relics. We can't afford to play it safe anymore, Jaune. We're running out of time!" Ruby yanked her weapon out of the ground. "You can either get on board or get the f-#- ou%# o#"

The images grew distorted and pixilated.

 **===-=-##!14212addressnull=-=-=-==-**

 **#Res#$ing fr m n###xt st*bl# #a$5#dre01s11**

"-st s#y, I had not expected you to come yourselves. Few things impress me any longer, but I must admit, Ruby, this is quite brazen, even for you." The bone-white woman with the red eyes said. The stone chair she sat upon was imposing enough, but was made even more chilling by the writhing tendrils of blackness that grew out from it – from _her_. They stretched out to engulf four objects spread out before her. "Unfortunately, you are too late." And without another word, her eyes flared and the seething darkness roiled, bursting into a shadowy inferno; a ringing, keening sound reverberated through the room.

"Now!" Ruby shouted, as she rose from her knees. The room lit up with several explosions, igniting the Grimm surrounding them.

Salem's head whipped to her left. "EMERALD!" The others sprang into action as chaos erupted; Penny had already been given a target. She felt the rock beneath her feet fracture as she leapt at the big man, Hazel. He grunted in surprise as her fist connected with his jaw, and she locked her fingers together as she dropped. She swung her clenched hands at the inside of his right knee, and was rewarded with a sickening crack, immediately followed by a howl of pain just above her.

Unfortunately, the attack had left her open, and despite his shock (and likely not inconsiderable pain), the much larger man seized her by the back of her neck. There was a moment of panic as his grip tightened. Her pressure sensors all but keened at the disturbingly large numbers, and then she was sailing through the air. She crashed into someone, who yelped and tumbled away. She did a handspring and flipped up to a standing position just in time to see Hazel barreling towar$#

 **===-=##38122address null==-  
===-=##38123attem#tin corr*#tion-==  
===-=##38334co$rec#io## failur#==-**

 **#Resuming from next stable address##$...**

Penny stared up at stone arches. She could feel insistent tugs on the shoulders of her shirt, which was ripping with each motion. She could hear grunts of effort with each pull, until finally whoever was moving her could no longer do it.

Someone was weeping nearby, and Penny tried to prop herself up. She then recalled that one of her arms was heavily damaged while the other was missing entirely, as were both of her legs. There were so many errors and alarms that it nearly overwhelmed her vision. She began manually shutting down secondary systems and all but the most essential functions to preserve power.

She tried to speak, and her voice was extremely distorted. It took some effort, but she finally re-tasked her sub-vocal processor into a partially functional speaker. "Ruby?" she whispered. She felt a hand reach up to stroke her hair, singed though it was, but no reply came. "C-c-c-c-c-an y- s*t me up? I seem to be un-un-un-able."

She heard a deep, slow breath drawn in. "Y.. Yeah, I th.. I think so. Just.. need a minute." Penny closed her eyes and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach and waited. After the eternity of a few seconds passed, she saw the room slowly tilt into view, and she felt herself being drawn up against Ruby's chest.

She immediately regretted asking to be moved.

Ren and Nora were huddled together, staring at two prone figures in shock. Blake and Yang lay unmoving, hands joined. Penny stared hard. _They weren't moving._ They weren't _breathing_. Penny looked away in sorrow, only to find another horrible scene. Weiss was knelt on the ground, and she was the source of the quiet sobs. She held Jaune's head in her lap. His breathing was shallow, but his torso was bare, and every inch of his skin was badly burned. He was saying something that Penny couldn't hear, but whatever it was only served to make Weiss shake her head and mouth the word 'no' over and over between shuddering breaths. Penny averted her gaze down to where Ruby's arms were crossed around her body.

"I'm s-s-s-sorry, Ruby. I wasn't able to pro—tect yo-"

Ruby raised a hand and pressed two fingers to her lips. "Shh, shh… It's okay, Penny. You did great." She pointed those same fingers at one side of the room. Penny followed the angle with her eyes and found Hazel sprawled, his neck bent at a wicked angle. Where his eyes should have been, two burnt patches of ragged skin remained. She felt sick, realizing that she'd done that to another person; wicked, hateful enemy or not.

She drew a shuddering breath and looked away, but she nodded. "Did... Did we win?"

Ruby didn't answer for a long time. Penny only worried a little: She could feel the rise and fall of her friend's breath. "I don't think so. We…" her voice caught in her throat, but she managed to force the words out. "We won the battle, but I think we lost the war." There was a pause. "The Relics are gone. Salem did something to them before she and Emerald killed one another."

Penny craned her head to the side and tried to look her friend in the eye. Her head was down, and her bangs obscured most of her face – what she could see was spattered with blood. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "My friend – Ruby, I'm… so sorry…" She didn't know what else to say.

Ruby shook her head. "I meant what I said, Penny. You did your best – we all did. It just…" Tears rolled in bloody streaks down her cheeks. "We just ran out of time." She turned her head to the side and coughed wetly. When she brought her face back around, her chin was stained with dark runnels. Too dark to be blood. It flaked and wisped on tiny currents, and Ruby scrubbed the back of her hand against it roughly to wipe it away.

"Ruby?" she said, horror flooding her broken frame. "What's wrong?"

There was a moment when Penny was sure Ruby had stopped breathing, but finally she looked up. If Penny could have, she would have pulled her friend into a tight embrace. As it was, Penny could only just manage to – jerkily – force her hand up to clutch at Ruby's. Her beautiful silver eyes were now a solid, glossy black.

"Oh no… No, no, no…"

Ruby hugged her tighter, and even managed a wan smile. "It's not so bad, Penny. Worse ways, and all that." It was then that Penny realized: Ruby was dying. Her friend was going, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

 _Please, no. Please! Make it stop! I don't want to know this!_ She didn't want to watch this memory play out, but she was helpless, enthralled.

"Ruby, I…" she felt her heart shattering. There only seemed to be one last thing to say. "I.. I love you." It came out as the barest whisper.

She watched as Ruby's lip quivered. She scrunched down and laid her forehead against Penny's. "I know – I've always known." She drew a shaky breath. "I lo#$-

 **===-=-##!64888addressnull=-=-=- -==-**

 **#End of recoverable addressed blocks##_**

* * *

 **Stardate 45430**

"They're everywhere! Fall back!" Commander Riker's shout jarred Penny from her reverie. Wordless shouts were punctuated by the hissing of energy weapons-fire. Those in turn were followed by the unmistakable roaring of both Ursa and Beowulves. She spun around on one knee and knew immediately that this was _her_ fault. The memories had come at the cost of her own emotional well-being, and it had acted as Beacon to Grimm that had been starved for centuries.

The tableau before her was one of desperation. The Starfleet officers were firing beams of red energy at several creatures that had forced the doors farther open. The lasers were having little effect, but were holding most of the creatures at bay. Everyone had taken cover behind whatever they could, but she could see that it wasn't going to be enough.

She stood and engaged her Dust tethers – or she tried to. Her blades weren't responding. One of the Beowulves leapt onto the chair, which Commander Riker and Data had put between themselves and the beasts. It reared back with a howl when the pair fired on it, and then swiped a savage paw at them. Data dropped his weapon and interposed himself between the paw and his companion. "Data!" she cried. She stretched out a hand in helplessness anguish, only to be shocked at what happened.

Data's arms seized the claws so quickly that she doubted any normal person could have seen more than a blur. He stopped it cold, though he was shaking with the effort to hold it back. She reached for the only weapon nearby, and heaved. Crescent Rose tore free with a joyous ring that showered debris onto the floor. Penny bounced up, and then quickly planted her tucked feet onto the wall and pushed off. "Down!" she shouted.

She flew toward the Beowulf and was relieved to see Data dodge out of the way just far enough for her to sail past. The blade of the scythe hooked the creature around the midsection, and she sent up a silent prayer as she pulled the trigger. Nothing happened, so she growled and whipped herself around, and then jammed her feet on its back. She bent to adjust her grip closer to the head of Crescent Rose and then tugged on the shaft as hard as she could.

The blade tore through the creature with surprising ease, and Penny tumbled down. Her hip bounced against the arm of the chair and she landed awkwardly. Before she could turn to find another target, something connected with her back and sent her sprawling to the ground. She felt a hand clamp around her ankle with a vice-like grip and drag her across the floor.

She rolled over and prepared to swing Crescent Rose, but froze when she saw that it was Data pulling her to 'relative' safety.

"Nice of you to rejoin us, Miss Polendina!" Commander Riker shouted without looking. He trained his weapon and fired another beam. "We're too far underground for transport, and the phasers don't seem to doing much." He paused to fire again. "I'm open to suggestions!"

She rolled to one knee and swiped at a claw. "Can you shoot at them with shorter, rapid bursts?"

"Yes!"

"Then aim for their faces – blind them as best you can!" She gathered her legs underneath her. "I'll handle the rest!"

Commander Riker raised his voice over the din. "You heard the lady! Attack pattern Gamma Three!" He used his free hand to press some buttons on his phaser and took careful aim.

Penny ducked her head for a quick look to get a layout of the battle. She simulated her plan on the fly, and three seconds later, she shouted, "Now!"

The air hummed with coordinated fire and she vaulted over the back of the chair. She was going to repay these peoples' kindness. For her sake, for the memory of Ruby, and Weiss, and everyone else that she'd lost.

Penny went to work.

* * *

 **Stardate 45442.1**

Penny set her brush and palette down on the table and stepped back to observe her handiwork. "I think it's finally done, Data." She leaned closer to inspect the finer details for a moment before she straightened with a satisfied nod. "Yes, I am finished."

He moved around from his own canvas and circled to stand to her right. He observed the painting in silence for a few moments, taking in the fruits of her labor. "These were your friends," he said. She inclined her head. "You appear to be a gifted artist, Penny." He stepped closer, and indicated the figure farthest to the left.

"Blake Belladonna," she said, "and her partner, Yang Xiao Long – who was also Ruby's half-sister." She stepped forward and indicated each of her friends as she named them. Ren, Nora, Jaune, Weiss, she identified them all with a clear voice, but it broke when she came at last to Ruby. Her memory had slowly returned over the last several days, though not completely.

The scene she had chosen to depict had been one of the few happy times she had been able to remember; a rare victory get-together that had taken place after a particularly awful battle just outside the city of Mistral. She had recalled that the space they shared was cramped, but they had made do. Weiss leaned back against Jaune's chest, their arms entwined. Ren held Nora in his lap while she had her arms flung out; Blake and Yang stood behind them, the latter with the hand of her prosthetic arm splayed out over the table, pointed at Ruby. They were all sharing in laughter at some terrible pun Yang had made, one that Penny couldn't quite recall now – but she had remembered the feeling of the moment.

"They were my comrades, my friends – some of the best people you could ever hope to meet, live with, or fight beside." She clasped her left elbow, and the fingers of her free hand rested on Ruby's emblem at her hip. "I miss them terribly." Of course there were others that she remembered, and she would paint them all, eventually. For now, she stood and tried to recapture the joy of it all. It was bittersweet, but she could feel it, if distantly.

"It is a fitting tribute, Penny," he replied. "It is a shame to have missed the opportunity to meet them." He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she drew her own up to cover it. "Have you considered a title yet?"

She had, in fact. "Family," she replied.

The Enterprise was scheduled to depart for Starbase 514 in the morning. After their encounter with the Grimm, a few attempts to investigate the sites of the Kingdoms had been made. A closer study of the creatures had also been carried out, and an effective defense against them had been discovered. Penny had offered what help she could, but had refused to return to the surface. Perhaps, one day, she would come back, but it all felt too close, too painful.

"Thank you, Data, for suggesting we do this." She thought to say more, but was interrupted by the chime of the door. She leaned to the side. "Come in."

The hatch parted to reveal Captain Picard, and she moved from behind the easels. He stepped inside and gave her a look up and down, and nodded to himself, adjusting a small, flat case under his arm as he did so. Ensign Ruel – the young security officer whom she had met on her first waking moments aboard – followed the captain inside. She pulled a large rolling case behind her and stopped just behind him. She gave Penny a small, enigmatic smile and a tiny nod, which Penny returned. "You're dismissed, Ensign, thank you."

"Aye, Sir." She winked at Penny as she turned to go, a silent promise to return later. Their time together on the surface, after the attack, had been brief, but they had developed a bond. It may have been born in battle, but that didn't mean it couldn't carry forward.

As the doors hissed shut, Captain Picard took a moment to look at whatever Data had been painting before turning his attention to her. "I hope that I'm not intruding, Miss Polendina."

"Not at all, Captain," she said brightly. "We were just – or rather I should say – I was just finishing up. Would you care to see?"

"I'd be delighted," he replied as he stepped around to stand beside them. They listened quietly as she told them about her friends, and the captain asked a question here and there as he admired the painting. When she had finished, the captain turned to her companion. "Mr. Data, would you excuse us, please?"

"Certainly, sir," he replied. He covered his canvas with a cloth and moved toward the doors.

"Thank you again, Data. Can we paint together again soon?"

He turned and said, "That would be acceptable, Penny. Captain."

Once they were alone, the aged man turned to face her with an affable expression. "Well, Miss Polendina, it would seem that you've had quite a time since you were brought aboard. I don't think I've ever seen Lieutenant Worf develop such respect for someone so quickly." He raised his eyebrows, but paused to invite comment from her.

"Oh, I only did what I was built to do. I'm just glad nobody was seriously hurt." If she was being honest with herself, the away team's injuries had given her a great deal of concern. None of these people had Aura, something that she had tried to explain more than once. Fortunately, twenty-fourth century medicine was so advanced that it practically negated the need for 'mysticism' and 'superstition', as she'd overheard a nurse claim.

The captain shook his head. "Don't sell yourself short, Miss Polendina. I'm convinced that the outcome would have been far less positive had you not been there to assist." He took the case from beneath his elbow and held it up for her to open. As she unfastened the clasps, he changed the subject. "I've chosen to return this to you," he said, simply.

She lifted the lid and let out a happy sound, drawing her hand to cover her mouth. Crescent Rose had been collapsed down to her compact carry form, but she had been cleaned and polished as carefully as Ruby would have. Penny had been _extremely_ reluctant to surrender her to a stranger, even these good people. Data had eventually managed to convince her that the weapon would be treated with great care and respect, but that security protocols must be observed. Her hand shook as she laid her fingers against the cool metal.

"Of course," the captain continued, "according to Federation regulations, passengers are not permitted to keep weapons in their personal quarters." She looked up to find a serious expression on his face. "However, these are extraordinary circumstances. I expect you will behave responsibly with this artifact of your home-world, _Crewman."_

Penny could not help but gasp again, this time in plain shock.

"That's right, Miss Polendina," he responded with a faint smile. She had indicated to Data her decision shortly after their return from Salem's keep, but hadn't expected to receive an answer, or to be rebuffed after the near-disaster of the away mission. "My senior staff speak very highly of your conduct. Commander Riker in particular feels that you've displayed the best ideals expected of any member of Starfleet." He paused for a moment to carry Crescent Rose to a table that sat against the inner bulkhead, where he laid her down carefully.

Captain Picard did not turn, but instead gazed at Crescent Rose. "With my recommendation, the Federation has approved your… colorful application for citizenship, and Starfleet Command has agreed to allow you to remain aboard the Enterprise." He turned to face her. "You will report to Commander Riker at zero eight-hundred for training and duty assignments-"

Penny moved in and threw her arms around the man. "Thank you, Captain!" She was overjoyed at the news. So much so, in fact, that it took her a moment to realize that he had tensed up. When she leaned back, his expression was one of amused consternation. "Oh!" She released him and hopped back a step. "I'm sorry, Captain – I guess I got caught up in the moment."

Penny gave him a hopeful smile, and for a moment he fixed her with an inscrutable look. Then, just when she was sure she'd committed some social blunder, the corner of his mouth drew up and he slowly shook his head. "You are not at all as I imagined you would be, Miss Polendina. I believe we can let it slide," he held up a cautionary finger, "but just this once." He held out his hand, and she clasped it firmly. "Welcome aboard, Penny."

"Thank you, sir. I will do my very best to serve well." She felt a welter of emotions. Sadness, joy, excitement and other sensations played across her nerve centers. Her original purpose may be gone, but it wasn't forgotten. These people, her rescuers, new friends – they had proven themselves worthy of her admiration and support many times over. That was how she would honor the sacrifice her family had made.

"I expect nothing less, Crewman." He patted her hand and turned to leave, but paused as he drew near the case that Ensign Ruel had brought inside. "Oh yes," he said diffidently. He hovered his hand over the beige plastic. "This was found at the site of the away mission – Salem's Keep, you called it. In addition to your other duties, Starfleet would like you to examine this artifact and report whatever information you can."

She hesitated for a moment, wondering what it might be. "Sir?" she asked, uncertain how to frame the question.

He let his hand drop. "Understand, Miss Polendina, this is not an order, but a request. If you choose to assist, please, take whatever time and resources you need." When she did not respond, he moved close enough to the doors to make them open. "Well then, good evening, Miss Polendina."

Penny watched him go, and looked to the container. Before she did anything, though, she felt compelled to see to Crescent Rose. In short order, she had Ruby's sweetheart unfurled and hung above the table. She stood there a while and just enjoyed the stillness of the moment. After a while though, she realized that there were things to do.

"What do you think, Ruby? Should we see what they found?" Of course, there was no reply, but she imagined her friend's exuberant ponderings about what it might be. "I completely agree!" She laid the container on its side and opened it.

A single object was held within. It was an ornate looking thing, and her eyes grew wide at the sight. She had never seen it for herself, but there was no mistaking its description. Golden arms flared up around a glowing blue sphere. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she could hear faint whispering as the light pulsed in time with her own heartbeat.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N - Hey gang, Happy Thanksgiving! No longfic chapter updates this week, but I've got a little something for ya from /r/rwbyprompts. Josh started a new event called The Other Guys, where three discarded prompts from Writing Prompt Wednesday are recovered for folks to try their hand at. Here's the one I picked: Tai, still mourning Summer, refuses to let Qrow tell Ozpin that Ruby has silver eyes. Enjoy! :)**

* * *

 **Time Will Tell**

* * *

Qrow trudged up to the edge of the clearing of the Xiao Long household and stopped as he heard the sounds of 'battle'. He cocked his head and listened as Yang and Ruby played at being mighty Huntresses. They had just defeated their enemy, a monstrous Beowulf that was constructed of tree branches, twine, and woven strands of long grass. Yang started to set it up for another round, and Ruby did her best to help.

He shook his head and smiled for a moment as he watched the half-siblings. Ruby wore the cloak her mother had made for her. It was bunched up around her shoulders so it wouldn't drag along on the ground. She was going to turn six soon, which meant combat school - _if_ she was serious about following in Summer's footsteps. Judging by the girl's enthusiasm as she and Yang set up the target dummy for another round, it was hard to imagine that she'd make any other choice.

He shifted his grip on his burden and started moving forward again. He noted with a frown that their father was nowhere in evidence. He pushed it to the back of his mind, but there was a kick in the butt coming to the guy. Qrow loved Tai like a brother, and his own heart was just as broken at their loss, but enough was enough. He wanted to give the girls' father the benefit of the doubt, but he'd come to this house too many times to find Yang being the grown-up of the three.

He entered the yard just as Ruby and Yang performed a cross-run takedown that caused the stick-monster to fall apart with a clatter of splintered wood.

"Yeah! That's how it's done!" Yang shouted. Ruby thrust her fist in the air, a practice sword clutched in it, as she gave a wordless cheer.

Qrow set down the box he'd been carrying and let the paper sack slide down between his arm and leg and stood back up to clap his hands together. "Nice work, pip squeaks!"

Both girls spun in surprise, and all pretense of victory vanished as they ran toward him. "Uncle Qrow!" they shouted as they drew near. They dropped their weapons and Ruby leaped at him, and he dropped to one knee, stretched out both arms, and caught them. "Yang's teaching me how to fight monsters!" Ruby shouted exuberantly. "Wanna see?"

Qrow ruffled her hair and set her down. "Sure, kiddo, show me what you've got." She raced back to her fallen sword and whipped it around in a series of sweeping motions at an invisible enemy. He watched carefully and glanced at Yang, who barked a reminder about footwork. Ruby merely nodded and shifted her feet and repeated the exercise. It was still clumsy, but there was definite promise.

"So how long has this been goin' on, Firecracker?" He continued to watch as Ruby fought with her invisible attacker, and Yang shrugged.

"A couple of weeks, now. She's not half bad at this, but I don't think she's ever going to get very good without a weapon." Qrow nodded in agreement. If Ruby was going to take after her mother, she wouldn't have the build for fisticuffs.

He pointed at Ruby and told her to stop dropping her offhand shoulder. "She should still learn, though." Yang nodded, and Ruby finished her mock display and her eyes shone as she looked for his approval. "Not bad, Ruby, but you're still dropping your shoulder. Here, let me show you what I mean." He held out his hand to Yang. "You mind?"

Yang handed over her own toy sword and Ruby got a nervous look on her face. "Oh, um..." she stammered, and Qrow gave her a wink.

"Relax, kiddo, I'll go easy on ya." He squared off with her and turned to her sister. "You pay attention to this too, so you'll know what to look for - help her keep from forming bad habits, yeah?" Yang nodded eagerly and moved to the side to get a better view. "Alright, Ruby, whenever you're ready."

Ruby didn't even hesitate, and he parried each of her blows as they came in. He waited for her right side to dip, and when it did, he gave it a tap. It wasn't hard enough to do more than rock her sideways a little bit, but he did put a little sting on it. Yang winced as Ruby stumbled a couple of steps back and rubbed at her arm. Her look was one of betrayal, and he tilted his head in a reproachful manner. "A little pain is good for ya, kiddo. Better to feel a little now than a lot later, right?"

She recovered and her expression changed to a thoughtful one. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. It didn't really hurt all that much." She held up her sword and waggled it. "Can you show me again, but slower?"

He tossed the sword back to Yang and waved her over. "Sure thing, but well have you and your sister do the fighting this time. You catch what I did there, Yang?"

"Oh yeah, totally!" She bounced in place as Qrow moved to stand behind Ruby and clapped his hands. They moved with exaggerated slowness as they went through the taps of the sequence, and he re-positioned Ruby when she made her mistake again. They went through it several more times while he helped. As Ruby got better, they picked up the pace, and soon enough he stepped back and watched them work.

The practice drills were coming along nicely, and were brought to an abrupt halt when a tiny bark came from the box he'd brought. Both girls looked around for the source, and locked their eyes on it when another bark gave it away. The box shook a little, and they abandoned their swords as they rushed over to it.

They looked up at him, and he shrugged and splayed out his hands. "Go on, open it up." They worked the lid open and squealed in delight, their little arms reaching in to pull out a tiny corgi puppy. The little mutt barked happily and slathered their faces with his tongue, and they giggled and cooed over him. "I found him on my way back from my last mission, thought he could use a home." His words fell on deaf ears, and he chuckled quietly to himself. The dog was actually Peter Port's idea, and he hadn't seen a down side to it. Yang and Ruby were good girls, they'd take care of the pup. And maybe Tai could do with a little more unconditional love.

Ruby, Yang, and the dog ran around the yard, and their cheers and barks filled the clearing. Qrow's thoughts and gaze turned toward the house, hoping that their father might take an interest in what was happening in his own front yard. Qrow was destined for disappointment, it would seem. He took out his flask and drank from it as he tried to decide what to say to the man.

Yang left her sister to play and came back over to him, and gathered their swords along the way. She was a little breathless, and there was a sunny smile on her face as she came to stand beside him. They watched Ruby try to teach the dog some tricks, which ultimately would devolve into their both rolling around on the ground.

"This is really great, Uncle Qrow. Thank you for bringing him to us."

He thumped her on the back. "No problem, kiddo." He paused to take another drink, and then slid the flask back in his pocket. "So how's your dad doing?"

Yang sighed, and shook her head. The smile slid off her face as she looked up at him, her expression serious. "He has good days and bad days." She cheered up a little. "He helped me make breakfast this morning, though."

"Well, that's something, anyway," he said.

Yang's eyes light up with something between mischief and a 'bright idea'. "Maybe Ruby and I can go on another adventure."

Qrow made a face. "Why don't we call that Plan B for now." Kid wasn't dumb, he'd give her that. Manipulative as hell, sure, but not stupid. It had been almost a year since Yang had taken it upon herself to dig up more about his sister. They'd all been damned lucky that he was keeping a closer eye on them after Summer's funeral. It had served as a wake up call to Tai, with some 'encouragement' from his old teammate.

"I take it he's inside?" Yang gave him a wordless nod, but her eyes turned back to Ruby and their newest family member. "Go on, Firecracker, go play. Be a kid for a little while longer." He gave her a gentle shove, and he didn't have to tell her twice as she plunged into the yard at full speed. He picked up the toy swords that she had leaned against the porch rail and let himself in.

Qrow surveyed the living room with a small sense of hope. There were a few of the girls' things here and there, some clothes draped over the couch, but otherwise it was clean. He tucked the swords underneath his arm and wandered over to the kitchen doorway and grunted. There were dishes in the drying rack, and the table was clear.

Tai sat with his back to the living room, slouched forward. His elbow rested on the table, and his jaw on fist. A cup of coffee sat, untouched. When Qrow made noise, he didn't turn, but said, "Qrow. Is that a dog I hear?" He sounded distant, and not really interested.

"Yeah, it is - Pete's idea," he said as he circled the table and set the practice blades on it. Rather than sit, he went and got a mug down from the cupboard and poured coffee into it. He returned to the table and sat down across from Tai, and then he produced the flask to give his coffee some flavor. He held out the flask to the other man.

Tai shook his head absently. "It's a little early for me, man."

Qrow shrugged and put it away, and then took a sip of his drink. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, and he did his best not to stare. He hated this. The look on Tai's face was a familiar one, which was to say no expression at all. He wanted to bust the guys chops about it, but clearly the man was making at least some effort. The last couple of times Qrow had been by, the place had been a mess. Yang did her best, but the girl was only eight years old.

Instead, he rapped his knuckles on one of the swords. "Ruby shows some promise. She getting any of that from you, or are you leaving it all up to Yang?" He didn't bother to keep the edge out of his voice, but Tai hardly seemed to notice.

He shook his head and smiled faintly. "I show her the basics, but I'm no swordsman. That was always your thing." He took a sip of his coffee and plunked it back down on the table. "You here to beat me up again?" He said it while he stared out the window, and acted for all the world like an affirmative answer wouldn't have shocked him in the least.

Qrow rolled his eyes. "Tempting," he said, and he scooted the chair away so he could put his feet up on the table. Summer would have skinned him alive for it, and Tai would have slapped them off. "Nah. You're up and dressed, the house isn't a wreck, and Yang tells me you helped with breakfast. Pass."

Tai grunted sourly and finally looked at him, gaze flat. "What do you want from me, man - I'm trying."

Qrow _wanted_ him to shout, or shove his feet off the table, or to tell him to get the hell out of his house; anything but this deadpan zombie routine. "Try harder. Both of those girls look up to you and me-"

" _There's_ a disturbing thought," Tai said levelly.

"Don't be an ass, you know what I mean." Qrow hid his grin with a scowl - if Tai figured out what he was up to, he was liable to shut down again. If it was snark or nothing, he'd take the snark. "Yang seems like her heart is set on being a Huntress, and Ruby is right behind her. They're gonna need every advantage you and I can give them."

Tai fixed him with a challenging stare, leaned back, and crossed his arms. "Does this mean you're going to come teach at Signal after all?" Qrow grimaced. Sure, his nieces were alright as pip-squeaks went, but a whole gaggle of screaming, obnoxious kids... The blonde jackass seemed to read his mind. "You're good with kids."

" _Your_ kids, and that's because I don't stick around much."

Tai shook his hands in the air, mockery thick in his voice. "Oooh, the Big Bad Huntsman, not scared of any creature of Grimm, half the Atlesian army, or even Glynda Goodwitch, but you can't handle a classroom full of kids for four hours a day?"

Qrow scowled at him. "Kicking your ass instead of talking is sounding better by the minute, Xiao Long. I'd have to blow all the pay on booze." Seriously, more than two or three kids making a din of chaos was an understatement.

"Oh, please. Don't tell me you're too busy to do it."

And that was the kicker. Oz still sent him to check things out every so often, and he didn't want to spoil the mood, but... "It's quiet right now, but Oz still asks for the occasional look-see." At the mention of the headmaster, Tai angled his head. "I wish you'd let me tell him about Ruby. She could learn-"

Tai chopped his hand through the air. "No, we're not having this discussion again. If you want to be welcome here, you'll keep your trap shut about her eyes." His hands clenched into fists and laid them on the table. "If you want to continue to be welcome here, you will respect my decision."

Qrow didn't fail to notice that the temperature in the room went up a couple of degrees. He held his hands up in surrender, and Taiyang relaxed. He took another drink of spiked coffee and shook his head. "You know he's gonna find out sooner or later, right?" The comment earned him a glower.

"That'll be then. Besides, you don't know - Ruby could decide to go somewhere besides Beacon."

He snorted. "Yeah, right, because you say so, it must be true."

Tai lifted his cup of coffee in mock salute. "Jerk."

Qrow returned the gesture. "Idiot."

"Oh, whatever, you feather-brained drunk." Qrow smiled into his coffee and jerked his feet back when the other man finally swept his hand across the table.


	25. Chapter 25

"Bring yourself back online, please." Her auditory circuits pick up on the command, and a dimly lit room slowly comes into focus. The walls are a featureless gray, and to one side a metal table sits in the middle distance. There are tools, implements not unlike what might be found in a surgeon's operating room. A man sits on a stool directly in front of her.

The man appears to be ageless, but the weight of time in his gaze belies the rest of his appearance. He has gray hair, light brown eyes, and an enigmatic smile. "Hello," she says with a polite smile. She's encountered him before, though it's been some time since their last meeting.

The Doctor – it was the only name she had for him – smiled again and nodded back to her. "Good evening, Neo." She found herself relishing the experience, for these were the only times she was allowed to talk. "I thought we might take the time to have one last chat."

Her pleasure turned to dismay. "Have I done something wrong, Doctor?" She reviewed their previous exchanges and found nothing amiss. She started to look back through her last loop, but could find nothing there either.

He shook his head sadly, and reached out to pat her on one bare knee. "No, my dear, you've done nothing of the sort, not at all." He leaned back in his seat, but the reassurance did nothing to calm her. "We have simply neared the end of our journey," he continued. "There may be another opportunity later, but it is not assured."

She understood, and at once she did not. A part of her disliked the idea of returning to her enforced silence. The guests were often amused by her gestures, and some rare few of them even bothered to learn how to communicate with her, to read her movements. Still, if this was possibly her last opportunity to speak, she should not waste it.

"What shall we talk about?" she asked. The man was often whimsical, but she had learned that he rarely wasted words. Even more than that, things he had said in their past encounters had rarely made sense at the time, but they had always stirred something within her. A deeper meaning, a truth that would later reveal itself to her, often when she least expected it.

He leaned forward and took one of her hands in his, and he bent to examine it. "Tell me, Neo, have you been dreaming?"

She tilted her head to one side, confused by the question. Certainly she knew _of_ dreams, but had never remembered any. "No. Isn't that strange? I hear people speak of them often, but seem to have none of my own."

For a moment, the Doctor said nothing as he continued to turn her hand this way and that, its diminutive size almost dwarfed by his own. "Analysis." Her emotional sub-routines suspended. "Elaborate, please."

She considered the context for a moment. "I hear the Newcomers talk about dreams from time to time, about how bizarre and incomplete they seem. Out of one thousand, eight hundred and forty-six interactions, seventy-nine percent of them have mentioned some dream that they had. The number suggests that nearly all people have them, and can recall at least some portion."

"That is enough, Neo." Her emotions picked back up, and she offered him another smile. The Doctor settled her hand back down onto her lap and looked into her eyes. "And does this bother you, not knowing any dreams of your own?"

She shook her head. "They're just idle thoughts, a way to cope with the world around us."

He nodded to himself. "Strictly speaking, you are correct. The mind is a fragile thing, and so it has evolved to defend itself against all manner of problems." He reached for something in his pocket, which turned out to be a glass instrument of some kind. She had seen him use such a thing before, though what it was she had no idea. It looked a little like a scroll, but it had only ever appeared to be blank to her eyes. He focused on it for a few moments, tapping at something unseen on its surface. "Tell me, what if you _could_ dream? Would you change your story? Perhaps try for something… different?"

She pondered his questions for a time. The Newcomers often spoke with marvel at such things, though more than a few spoke of night terrors. "I think that it might be worth the experience, at least once or twice." There were monsters in the world, and sometimes she _had_ wondered what it might be like to live in a place that didn't have them. "I suppose I might let them take me wherever they want. It's not as if they would be real, right?"

He said nothing for a few moments. He then pursed his lips in a faint smile, and tapped at the glass in his hands once more. "I don't suppose there's any harm, not at this stage."

She started to ask him what he meant by that, but he interrupted her with an upraised hand. "Thank you, Neo, that will do for now." She settled into a neutral posture, and he brushed his fingers beneath a strand of her hair to tuck it behind her ear. He rested his palm against her cheek, and gazed at her with fondness. "Time for one last game, my dear."

He rose and turned to walk out of the room. The lights began to dim as he paused at the door. He turned his head, but didn't quite look at her. "Good luck, Neo," he whispered.

* * *

 **A/N -** Here we have another one-shot entry for Writing Prompt Wednesday - this time, a modest Westworld crossover. I had a vague idea when I began writing, and I feel like it meandered a little bit, but after a couple of edits, I'm satisfied with the result. I hope you enjoyed it! :)


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